LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

- — j^3 

Shelf Mlh 



i 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



\ 



COUSIN EULA; 



OR, 



A CATHOLIC CONVERTED 



A humble setting forth of Salvation 

through the merits of Christ alone, in contradistinction 

from the false dogmas of the Roman 

Catholic Church. 



BY 



THE EEV. J. BUIE McFAELAND, 

Of the North Georgia Conference. 



WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 

BISHOP GEORGE F. PIERCE. 






r 






No...:*. 



9.. 9 



NASHVILLE, TENS'. : > v „ 

Southern Methodist Publishing House. 

PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR. 

1882. 




OF 



U*R*** 



^ 



CO^GR«SS 






\ 



Copyright Secured. 



DEDICATION. 



This little volume is respectfully dedicated 
by the author to the memory of 

BISHOP ENOCH M. MABVIN, 

WHO IMPRESSED HIM AS THE HOLIEST MAN HE EVER 
KNEW, AND WHOSE NAME APPEARS TO HIS DEACON'S 
5; AND TO 

BISHOP WILLIAM M. WIGHTMAN, 

AT WHOSE HANDS HE WAS SET APART AS AN ELDER IN 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 



PREFACE. 

Into the hands of whomsoever this book shall fall we 
beg of them not to judge of its merits from a partial 
reading or a superficial examination, but to let the 
whole story stand or fall together. 

The pronoun I is used more frequently in the first 
chapter than we desired, but it seemed unavoidable. 
After you pass the first chapter you may converse with 
us without that repulsive feeling one has toward the too 
frequent use of the egotistical pronoun. 

The chapters may be subdivided if desirable, especial- 
ly for children. The whole is so completely networked 
that when the reader has fully entered the book he will 
not be content until the end is reached. 

We have not sought the highest literary style, but pre- 
ferred the more simple style, comprehensible alike to the 
cultivated and uncultivated mind. The book is almost a 
transcript of what passed between the writer and others. 

Should Catholics claim this work to be false or fiction, 
we assert it is not. It carries in itself the internal evi- 
dence of truth. Our real and personal identity is given 
on the title-page. The Author. 



INTRODUCTION. 



My friend, the Eev. J. B. McFarland, has written a lit- 
tle book, and requests me to prepare an Introduction. I 
render this service cheerfully, after looking over the proof- 
sheets. 

The book is without literary pretensions, and claims 
nothing on the score of style. It is a simple, truthful nar- 
rative, detailing the struggles of a mind passing out of the 
darkness and bondage of Catholicism into the light, and 
freedom, and satisfaction, of a pure Protestant Christianity. 
It reveals partially the machinery by which the priesthood 
of that apostate Communion dominates and terrifies the 
simple-minded men and women who have been ensnared 
by their wiles. It shows how heartless and unsatisfactory 
is the routine of the arbitrary and unscriptural services to 
which these victims are doomed, and with what fearful emo- 
tions the enslaved mind first entertains the idea of change 
and emancipation. The threatened malediction of the 
Church is invoked to crush the incipient thought of escape 
from the intolerable thraldom. The arts of the nun and 
the intrigue of the priest, the moral suasion of kindness 
and the terror of excommunication, are all employed to 
hold the struggling spirit in subjection to the "scarlet 



8 Introduction. 

woman." The book, if it could be circulated, might an- 
swer a double purpose — protecting the simple-hearted from 
the guile and treachery of the artful proselyter, and open- 
ing the eyes of the benighted devotees to the fraud by 
which they have been deceived and betrayed. But Rome 
will not allow her children to read on this side of the ques- 
tion. The most, therefore, that can be hoped for is that 
the unwary may be warned, and thus forearmed, and that 
some one or more may be incited to the work of rescuing 
another weary, wretched prisoner, and introducing him or 
her to the joys of simple faith in the great High-priest of 
our profession. Q s p. Pierce. 

Sunshine, March 6, 1882, 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTEE I. 

From childhood to mature years — First mission-work 
— She is really a Catholic — Our old Spanish 
friend — Catholicism enslaves the intellect 11 

CHAPTER IE 

Prayer to the Virgin Mary is sin — Confession to the 
priest is idolatry — Penance is a work of superer- 
ogation — Infallibility and other dogmas are ab- 
surdities 36 

CHAPTEE III. 

How Eula became a Catholic — Little Alice, of seven 
years — Little Lucy, of five years — Sabbath morn- 
ing — Sunday-schools — Sabbath evening — Sisters 
of Charity 48 

CHAPTEE IV. 

Religious conversation — Christian experience — My 
mother — My eldest sister, Cynthia — My youngest 
sister, Hattie 73 

chapter v. 

My cousin is unhappy — Faith — Justification — Grace 

— Witness of the Spirit 87 



10 Contents. 

CHAPTEE VI. 

Catholics alarmed — Wilderness state — Prodigal re- 
turning — Works — Tears — Eula confesses the 
truth 103 

CHAPTER YII. 

Decision and renunciation — Last agony — "But I 
swore" — Imprecations — Death is not a synonym 
for this — Eula is converted * 118 

CHAPTEE VIII. 

First temptation to go to the priest — Temptation van- 
ished — Planning for the future — Second tempta- 
tion — She dissuades the preacher from writing 
this book — Temptation ended, and she prays for 
God's blessing on this work 145 

CHAPTER IX. 

Father F. D. La Fontaine interviewed — Correspond- 
ence — To the Catholic reader — To the Protestant 
reader — Whv the book has been delaved 179 



(fousm dMa; or,^ dfaiholiq dfonwiM 



CHAPTER I. 

From childhood to mature years — First mission-work — 
She is really a Catholic — Oar old Spanish friend — 
Catholicism enslaves the intellect. 

Twenty-five years ago there lived in one of 
the valleys of North Georgia a kind family, 
near neighbor to my father. They drank water 
from a pure spring that flowed from under the 
hill near their neat two-room log-house; for 
there were in those days, in that portion of the 
State, but few houses that were not made with 
the woodman's ax. They breathed pure mount- 
ain air that gave vigor to mind and body. In 
that family there was a son, near my own age. 
We were doubtless strongly attached to each 
other, but not old enough to know the meaning 
of the words, "We must part." There was in 
that family a daughter, two or three years 
younger than myself, who is to be the central 
figure of this story. There w^as in the neigh- 
borhood a country school-house, at which place 

(11) 



12 Cousin Eula; ob, 

the children of each family went to school. One 
thing, and only one, do I remember of dear lit- 
tle Eula. One summer evening, after a rain, 
we innocently ran along together, barefoot, in 
the trenches made by the washing of the water. 
A swelled branch caused us to climb around 
the fence. 

It was not long after this the father thought 
he could do better in another State. Arrange- 
ments were completed for the move. A long 
travel in wagons across two States lay before 
the courageous father in seeking the welfare of 
his growing family. The wagons w r ere packed, 
and, as an evidence of love and mark of respect, 
as many of our family as could accompanied 
the departing train for several miles. While 
my associate and I walked behind a wagon, 
unthoughtf ul of the fact that many would be 
the changes, seasons, and rolling years before 
each other's face we should see again, there 
were riding within the wagon two older girls, 
of twelve summers, whose hearts were wed. 
They wept. We heard their weeping, but we 
knew not why they wept so sorely. We know 
now. They met no more on earth. Time 
brought approaching manhood and woman- 
hood. Time also brought the civil war, known 
as the Confederate, or Rebel War. At its close 



A Catholic Converted. 13 

the two weeping girls were of marriageable 
age. They married. It was not long until 
one of them died in the faith of the gospel of 
Christ. So Julia was numbered with the dead. 
She left a little girl to make sunshine in the 
world in place of the mother dear. Soon after 
the husband of the other died; but a little 
girl of two summers was left to the bereaved 
mother, who, she was accustomed to say, was 
the sunshine of her life. A few years passed, 
and she remarried. Two years more passed, 
and that unrelenting disease, consumption, 
seized its victim, and then gentle, sweet Cyn- 
thia was no more on earth. On her grave- 
stone was carved that verse, so fitting a tribute 
to her memory: " Blessed are the pure in heart, 
for they shall see God." 

At first we knew not wiiy they wept so sore- 
ly; but, as we grew r older, we knew it was be- 
cause they felt we may never meet again. No, 
not here; but they have met in the spirit-land 
to weep no more, for " God shall wipe away all 
tears from their eyes." 

In the war there were two rebel soldiers, 
ruddy and youthful. After we had followed 
our gallant Johnston over many a contested 
inch of ground, there came into our camp one 
day -a beardless youth, introducing himself as 



14 Cousin Eula; or, 

my long-absent associate. The boys of eight- 
een once more sweetly communed as their re- 
viving memories called up the scenes of their 
childhood-days. 

Once more we met. It was on the 22d of 
July, 1864, in the field of battle-array. When 
we saw the day was lost, as quick as thought 
it was said by one, "Shall we surrender? or 
shall we try to run the fast-closing lines in our 
rear?" It was as quickly answered by the 
other, "A prison I cannot bear; let us try it, 
and, if either of us fall, let the other fall by 
his side and see his end." So we agreed, and, 
with guns at trail-arms, we made for the rear, 
while an unbroken line of the enemy made 
sure aim at the retreating few. A ball passed 
through my arm, and marked my body. I cried 
out, "I am wounded!" while my gallant com- 
panion responded, " Do you want help? " In 
the rear we parted, and each other's face we 
have not seen since. As I was now disabled 
for the army service, I knew I should never be 
exposed again to the perils of the war. 

Freed from the dangers of the war, another 
trouble bore upon my mind. At the age of 
fourteen I had been truly converted to God, 
and with my embracing religion I felt a con- 
scientious conviction that it was my duty to 



A Catholic Converted. 15 

pray in my father's family. I failed to do it. 
Thus time rolled on, leaving me condemned by 
the Spirit. 

A farther duty bore upon my mind from the 
time I was converted ever afterward: I was 
conscious of the unfailing voice of the Holy 
Spirit calling me to preach Jesus. And now 
the responsibility was increased; for while I 
was exposed to the dangers of the war, I longed 
to see my precious mother, loving sisters, and 
little brothers. So I vowed a vow, and it was 
this: "O Lord, keep my life safe through the 
war, that I may see my mother and loved ones 
again; and then I will preach Jesus." My 
right-arm torn and broken, I knew I should 
never be a soldier any more; but to preach the 
gospel — I could not bear the thought! I could 
never be a beggar, as it is sometimes charged 
against Methodist ministers ; for I realized that 
my work through life was to be a unit — that of 
a traveling Methodist minister. 

Let it suffice here to say, to redeem my vow 
and begin family-prayer in my father's family 
cost me eight months' sickness and forty-eight 
hours' fasting and prayer, during which time 
I neither ate, drank, nor slept. One thing I 
did accomplish: I got under the cross, and boro 
it; and ever since the cross has been bearing 



16 Cousin Eula; or, 

me. Such was the trial of that hour, or hours, 
and such the victory, that I can truly say it 
has never since been a cross for me to preach. 
Preaching to me has been sweeter than the 
honey and honey-comb. 

Afterward I said to mother, " I am conscious 
of my duty to preach the gospel of grace to 
sinners; are you willing? " She replied, " Yes, 
my son, if you will only wait until you are 
qualified." I responded, "Mother, I will do 
my best on that line." 

After a year's schooling at home, I went to 
Emory College, Oxford, Ga., with one object 
in view. I remained there three years, and 
did my best. 

All this time there was something in my 
mind deeper still. One day I must tell those 
I love I am to be a missionary. China was 
my ideal field of labor. The three years at 
Emory College satisfied me that I had not 
sufficient strength of body or fitness of mind 
for the foreign work. 

Six years I was happy in preaching the gos- 
pel in North Georgia. My soul so longed for 
the mission -field that one morning, in open 
District Conference, in the town of Kinggold, 
Ga., I arose and said: "Bishop Pierce, I here 
make a complete surrender of my life to the 



A Catholic Converted. 17 

mission- work anywhere you may see fit to send 
me." It was a hard struggle, but the work was 
done. 

At the end of the year I said to my presid- 
ing elder, " You may authorize the bishop to 
transfer me to the Florida Conference; or, 
what I would like better, give me work in 
Florida, allowing me to remain a member of 
the North Georgia Conference, that I may not 
lose my identity with those brethren whom I 
so dearly love." 

I was transferred, and stationed on the Nas- 
sau Mission, Florida Conference, with one 
hundred dollars appropriation, fifty of which 
it took to carry myself and wife to the work. 
We had in our new field of labor privations 
such as neither of us had ever known, yet we 
were truly happy in our work, and it was not 
long before I was convinced that I was right 
in seeking missionary- work. I really thanked 
God I was a missionary. But I am not going 
to tell you now any more about that particular 
mission. 

As I had now crossed the serpentine Saint 
Mary's River, and breathed the soft air of the 
land of flowers, I realized an abiding desire to 
see again my associate, who had thirteen years 

previous assisted me from the field of battle 
2 



18 Cousin Eula; or, 

when I was all covered with blood. Hope de- 
ferred, it is said, maketh the heart sick. The 
hope of seeing my associate, or even hearing 
from him, was really faint; yet I did write a 
postal-card, and received a kind answer in re- 
turn. The following is an extract: 

"Tampa, Fla. — Your card has been received. 
It made us glad, yet sorrowful. We are all 
yet alive since you heard last. I am the father 
of five children, one of whom is named for you. 
All of our family live here except sister Eula 
and brother George. Eula is the mother of 
four children — two living and two dead — one 
of whom died last fall during the yellow-fever 
epidemic." 

It was little Lucy, a bright little girl of five 
years. Dear reader, you will meet her again 
in these pages, as well as little Alice, of seven 
years. 

Following is an extract from my letter: 

"Nassau Mission, Florida Conference. — I de- 
sire so much to visit you at Tampa. Please 
write me the cost from Cedar Keys to Tampa. 
Also the chance to go from Tampa to Mellon- 
ville. I want to go to Mellonville to the Dis- 
trict Conference about the first of April. If 
I can take you in my route I will be happy to 
do so." 



A Catholic Converted. 19 

Here is his reply: 

"Tampa, Fla. — It will cost you twenty dollars 
from Cedar Keys to Tampa and return. You 
cannot go from here to Mellonville at this sea- 
son of the year. My mother is going about 
that time to Saint Augustine, to see my sister 
and brother. If you cannot visit us, perhaps 
you can join in travel with my mother at Bald- 
win, the 27th or 28th of March." 

The fifth Sabbath in March gave me rest I 
needed much. The 27th of March wife and I 
traveled toward the ancient city of Saint Au- 
gustine, to be gone from our mission two weeks 
— one rest Sabbath, one at the District Confer- 
ence. Strange to say, I had never been con- 
cerned before about Saint Augustine — no, not 
until I learned certain persons were living 
there; and even then I had an idea it was an 
old, dilapidated town, of one or two hundred 
inhabitants, whereas it has two thousand. 

Here is a special providence, if you will re- 
member it, and connect it with my unavoidable 
delay in Saint Augustine. I had supposed the 
place to be only about twenty miles from Jack- 
sonville, and costing a small amount. Upon 
the train I secured a railroad map. I began 
to search for Saint Augustine. At first I 
thought it is surely not laid down; but I did 



20 Cousin Eula; or, 

find it, far down on the coast from where I had 
expected to find it. I took the map to my wife, 
and said, "I am deceived about Saint Augus- 
tine. We go up the Saint John's Biver about 
fifty miles, and then some twenty miles by 
railroad to Saint Augustine. My money will 
be short." She asked, " What will you do? " 
I answered, " We can but go forward now." 

Thursday night, March 27, 1878, was spent 
with my presiding elder, in Jacksonville. A 
blush came upon my face when he told me the 
cost to Saint Augustine and return. I then 
expressed myself: "I have started for the Dis- 
trict Conference in good faith, a distance from 
my mission of two hundred and fifty miles. I 
have never missed a District Conference. I 
desire very much to go, but I fear you will not 
see me there. I am deceived as to the cost to 
Saint Augustine — my money will be short. It 
is yet five days before we leave for Conference. 
It is not economy to go back or remain here. 
I can but go to Saint Augustine." 

Faint of hope in reaching the District Con- 
ference, one thought was then paramount in 
my mind: I wonder if my cousins — ah, there! 
I have told you now what Eula and George 
are to me. Yes, they are my own dear cousins. 
Yes, I was anxious in my soul to know if my 



A CxVtholic Converted. 21 

cousins were Christians, and in what Church I 
should find them. Before I parted with my 
presiding elder I said, "Brother Pasco, I have 
forgotten wdio has charge of the Saint Augus- 
tine Mission." He answered, "It is supplied 
by the Bev. T. E. Cooper." I asked, "Shall I 
likely meet him?" He replied, "No, sir; we 
have no society in that place — it is mostly a 
Catholic town." Then I thought more than 
ever that they could not be Methodists. I 
wonder what they are ? 

We had a pleasant trip of four hours on the 
picturesque Saint John's Biver in the " Hamp- 
ton" — an excellent vessel with a praiseworthy 
motto, "God bless our ship." Twenty miles 
by rail, and then we arrive in the ancient city 
of the New World. At the depot we were be- 
sieged with drummers. All have the best fare, 
best accommodations. All want to do the kind 
favor to take our baggage. The following con- 
versation occurred: "Hackman, do you know 
where Mr. Uzenia lives? " "Yes, sir; I carried 
a lady over there yesterday. If you wish to 
go, I would like to take you." Wife and I were 
soon at the cottage-door, our card sent in, and 
a welcome sent out. The lady spoken of was 
my dear old Methodist aunt. I had not seen 
her in thirteen years, nor had she visited her 



22 Cousin Eula; or, 

children before in three years. She was a sweet- 
looking old lady, but she seemed sad. 

Family talk: " This place is much larger than 
I expected to find it; ho^y many inhabitants 
has it? " " Over two thousand." " How old is 
the city?" "Over three hundred years old." 
I thought, but spoke not. A Southern city 
over three hundred years old, with two thou- 
sand inhabitants, and no Southern Methodist 
church! Shame, shame on us! It is due, how- 
ever, to here state we had a church and society 
there previous to the war, which was lost in 
the vicissitudes of the war. 

After some salutations and complimentary 
remarks, I said, " Cousin Eula, while I am 
your guest I shall make myself at home, as 
my custom is." " Certainly, Cousin Buie, I 
would not have you do otherwise," was her 
prompt reply. So I said, " We left the boat 
before the dining-hour, consequently we have 
not had dinner to-day." She replied, "I will 
gladly have dinner ready in a short time." 

In the meantime, while dinner w T as in prepa- 
ration, I sat near the round-table, upon which 
lay a few books. I thought, I shall now find 
out what my cousins are. So I examined the 
books that lay upon the center-table. An old 
Methodist Hymn-book first passed in review. 



A Catholic Converted. 23 

The fly-leaves were gone— no trace of name to 
be found. " Our Children," by Dr. Haygood, 
of the North Georgia Conference, was next in 
order. No name could I find. Next a gilt- 
edge book with a cross stamped on each side, 
fastened with a clasp. The only inscription on 
the outside was "Mission Book." O God! I 
fear to unloose the clasp, lest the name on the 
fly-leaf should crush me. It was opened, but 
no name was written within. It was a Roman 
Catholic book. Here is another. Let me pur- 
sue my search. It is a Testament. I opened, 
and read: " Presented to George by his mother. 
Head this book, my son, and be wise. Nov. 20, 
1875." There was yet another book, title, " Com- 
mon Prayer." It was an Episcopal book. No 
name yet to be found. And yet there is still 
another. It is a pamphlet, price twenty-five 
cents. (I wish my little book could be just 
twenty-five cents.) But what of its title ? " The 
Catholic Christian Instructed." No name yet. 
The only writing I found was " Catholic Library, 
Saint Augustine, Fla." And now that I was 
through the books, I sighed. O God, where 
am I? I am afraid this hymn-book is only a 
relic speaking of better and happier days of 
the past. No, this cannot be, for here is " Our 
Children." It is a late edition, too, bearing the 



24 Cousin Eula; or, 

likeness of its fearless author. My aunt looks 
so sad. I am afraid I am not in time. O God, 
where am I? I never felt so before. Dinner 
was announced, but I did npt feel so much like 
dining as when I asked for it. Yet I tried to 
feel cheerful. 

Table-talk: " Well, Cousin Eula, I have often 
tried to imagine how you looked, but could not." 
She replied, "And so have I, you, Cousin Buie; 
but you are so different to what I expected you 
would be." " Well, cousin, your mother favors 
one of her sisters very much, but you have only 
one resemblance to our family. Your forehead 
is very much like my sister Hattie's, who died 
last year. She was such a good Christian I 
feel she is in heaven now. However, you have 
an unnatural appearance to me, but I suppose 
it is because I have never known you before." 

I suppose it was quite an hour after dining 
when I asked to be excused, that I might walk 
over the city, as I had been confined all day in 
the boat and cars. Mr. Uzenia proposed to be 
my guide. He first conducted me to the old 
Fort San Marcos, now known as Fort Marion. 
It was built by the Spaniards, in 1565. It is 
said to be the best specimen of military archi- 
tecture of its time now extant. Within the 
fort was confined about sixty Indians. They 



A Catholic Converted. 25 

interested themselves in making bows and ar- 
rows, polishing sea-beans, and making other 
trinkets they sold to visitors. We were next 
shown the pillars of the ancient gate, and frag- 
ments of the ancient wall. 

As the rays of the evening sun were reced- 
ing over the western plain, and sinking into the 
Gulf of Mexico, we walked together around the 
sea-wall, feasting our eyes upon the boundless 
waters of the Atlantic Ocean that lay to our 
left. Thus gratification and fear were mingled 
within my breast — gratified to behold the won- 
derful achievements of man, and more grati- 
fied to know there was One mightier than man, 
who could say to the mighty deep, " Thus far 
shall thy proud waves come, and no farther." 
And even amid the angry billows His gentle 
voice is heard, " Peace, be still " — so much so, 
that all around is made as calm and cheerful 
as the bleating of a lamb on the green meadow, 
or the cooing of a dove on a spring morning. 
Fear was enthroned within, for I was still won- 
dering what my cousins were. 

Twilight drew its mantle over us, reminding 
us that "the day is past and gone, the evening 
shades appear." And " the night cometh, when 
no man can work." We returned homeward 
through the heart of the city; yet it had little 



26 Cousin Eula; ok, 

attraction to me, for I was still wondering what 
my cousins were. As we walked I was musing, 
but my musing was aroused to excitement when 
Mr. Uzenia said to me, " This is the Cathedral; 
it has been built a hundred years." "Tell me, 
Mr. Uzenia, to what Church do you and your 
family belong?" "My wife belongs to the 
Catholic Church." Thus the dread announce- 
ment came. It excited a secret resolve within 
my heart: "0 God, by thy grace I intend to 
reclaim my cousin! " I then said, "And is that 
your way of thinking? " "Well, I do not be- 
long to any Church; I do not see that it makes 
any difference what Church; if I were going to 
join any, I suppose I should join the Catholics." 
I said to myself, Thousands have thought " it 
makes no difference;" but such thinking, or, 
rather, the want of thinking, has led many to 
temporal and eternal ruin. 

The evening was spent in social conversation 
until the hour arrived for retirement. We had 
family - pray ers, and retired. Adjoining my 
wife's room was the bed-chamber occupied by 
Cousin Eula and her mother. On retiring, I 
heard her say to her mother, " I am so nervous 
and peculiar I cannot sleep without a light." 
As I awoke at different times of the night, and 
early in the morning, I noticed a light shining 



A Catholic Converted. 27 

through a crack at the top of the door between 
the two rooms. The unnatural appearance of 
my cousin, as I had before discovered, with the 
burning lamp, was a book to me not hard to 
read. Each told of a spirit within distorted 
with fears of the awful. 

Friday morning, March 29, the sun rose as 
usual, and began his circuit; no fog obscured 
his light that morning on that Southern coast. 

I preferred to be alone, and asked to be ex- 
cused, that I might walk for exercise and sight- 
seeing. First I went to an hotel, and made 
some extracts from the register relating to 
temperature of the weather for the month of 
January, that I might compare with the tem- 
perature at our North Georgia home for the 
same time. Next I went to the harbor. How 
delightful to stand on the dock and see the 
sail -vessels going out pleasure-seeking and 
sight-seeing! Again I took the wall on the 
sea-shore, and walked around until I reached 
the suburbs of the city. Now that I was on 
the outskirts of the city, I saw beautiful or- 
ange-groves full of oranges; really beautiful 
was the golden fruit among the green foliage. 

To the left of the door of a dilapidated cot- 
tage sat an old man on a worn chair. I sa- 
luted him, and asked a question about the or- 






28 Cousin Eula; or, 

anges. He politely gave me the information 
desired, and asked me to have a seat. Feeling 
tired, I accepted, and entered into conversation. 

Our new friend here introduced is an old 
Spaniard, afflicted, very poor, and has five 
children. The following conversation took 
place: 

American. Does the city help you? 

Spaniard. Yes, two dollars a month. I was 
in the Indian war, and my friends think I will 
yet receive a pension. 

A. How long have you lived here? 

S. Since I was a child. 

A. Well, tell me, friend, are you a member 
of the Church? 

S. Yes; Catholic. 

A. Are you conscious of the forgiveness of 
sins? 

S. Yes, sir. 

A. And you feel you love God, and he loves 
you? 

S. I do. 

A. Well, tell me, friend, do you believe the 
teachings of the Roman Catholic Church? 

S. I do not. 

A. Then you do not believe the priest can 
forgive sins? 

S. No, sir. 



A Catholic Converted. 29 

A. When did tlie priest come to see you? 

S. He lias not been to see me in a year and 
a-half . The Presbyterian priest comes to see 
me. 

A. Not priest — minister. 

S. Tes, we call them priests. [Spontane- 
ous]: The Catholics do not help me now — the 
Protestants help me. 

A. Why do you not join the Protestants? 

S. I am too indecent. 

A. Not at all: the Presbyterians are a good 
people, and are perfectly willing to receive the 
poor. 

Our old Spaniard was a real Protestant in 
heart, but why he did not join the Protestant 
Church was a mystery, but is no longer a mys- 
tery to me. Why thousands of Boman Cath- 
olics, really convinced of their erroneous teach- 
ings and idolatrous worship, do not join the 
Protestants, is a mystery to the world, but the 
secret is within this book. 

S. [Spontaneous]: My cousin, a lawyer liv- 
ing in Tallahassee, has turned, and he told us 
of others. 

A. Friend, where is your family? 

S. Four of my children are in the Presby- 
terian school. I have one little girl here with 
me; she is paralyzed. 



30 Cousin Eula; ok, 

He called up his little paralyzed girl of ten 
years. I gave her a dime, and told her to ask 
her father how to spend it. "O," said he,. 
" she will spend it for bread. Many a night 
do my children go to bed without bread." I 
arose from my seat, and gave him my hand, 
and said: "Friend, I am a minister of the 
Methodist Episcopal Church, South. God 
bless you." "And God bless you too," he re- 
plied. I hardly need tell you we both shed 
tears, parted, feeling better for having met — 
strangers in the flesh, brothers in Christ. I 
really went on my way rejoicing, thanking 
God I was a wandering missionary. Nor did 
I rejoice alone, for, two hours afterward, when 
the wife of my bosom read the dialogue in my 
diary, tears of joy flooded her cheeks. 

Saturday, March 30, was spent in sight-see- 
ing and taking notes not necessary to publish 
here. 

All the time it seemed my soul was swell- 
ing toward the point of bursting into tears. 
The night came. After tea, my aunt asked 
my wife to sing. Some good old Methodist 
hymns were sung. Favorite hymns were 
called for. My cousin asked for "I would 
not live alway," when the following conversa- 
tion ensued: 



A Catholic Converted. 31 

Buie. Well, Cousin Eula, yon mnst join ns 
in singing your choice, or else sing one by 
yourself. I am unwilling to come and go for 
the first and perhaps the last time without 
ever hearing your voice in song. 

Eula. No, Cousin Buie; I am a Catholic 
now, and I cannot sing those hymns. 

B. What! Does being a Catholic interfere 
with your singing those spiritual songs — the 
songs of your first love ? 

Aunt. Yes, Buie, I brought that book there, 
"Our Children," by Dr. Haygood. I think it 
such a good book. But Eula said, "Mother, 
I cannot read that book now, I am a Catholic." 
It nearly broke my heart. 

And here the mother broke down with a 
deep sob that a mother's heart only can feel. 

E. Well, mother, you know I wrote to sister 
that you need not be surprised if I joined the 
Catholics. 

Mother. But, daughter, I thought you were 
only jesting; I had no idea of such a thing. 

E. Cousin Buie, you will not like me be- 
cause I am a Catholic, will you ? 

B. Cousin, I do not dislike you for these 
reasons, but I am only sorry. 

E. Sorry for what? Because I belong to 
the Church? 



32 Cousin Eula; or, 

B. Yes; sorry because you belong to the 
Roman Catholic Church. 

E. I think I should have gotten George be- 
fore long, if mother had riot come. 

B. Why were you so anxious to get your 
brother to join? 

E. Well, you know he is working at a very 
dangerous place in the mill, liable to be torn 
up by the machinery. He has not been bap- 
tized, does not belong to the Church, and 
should he die in this condition, he would be 
lost. 

B. Cousin, your desire for the eternal salva- 
tion of your brother is praiseworthy, but such 
salvation does not depend upon such material 
things as water-baptism, but upon being born 
of the Holy Ghost. 

E. But, cousin, do you not believe the Cath- 
olic Church to be a good Church, and the true 
Church of Christ? 

B. I certainly do not. 

E. Well, what became of the people who 
died previous to the apostasy of Luther? 

B. Many of them doubtless are in heaven. 
That there are some good people in the Cath- 
olic Church I do not doubt. How far God ex- 
cuses ignorance in his subjects I cannot tell; 
he alone is Judge. 



A Catholic Converted. 33 

E. Do you not think Luther was a vile per- 
son? 

B. I do not; but a very good and great 
man, and one that has blessed the world 
from his day until the present. And, my dear 
cousin, if you ever get to heaven — and I hope 
you will— you will certainly meet Martin Lu- 
ther there. 

E. Why, cousin! Have you ever read his 
Life? You know he was a priest. He broke 
a solemn vow, for which he could not receive 
forgiveness, for he did not apply for it. He 
stole one of the nuns from the convent, and 
married her. How can he be in heaven? 

B. I have read his Life. Perhaps we may 
have read different Lives of Luther. But let 
us look at the issue from your stand-point. As 
to the vow, if it was binding his conscience, so 
that he could not conscientiously serve God as 
he believed God's will and word demanded he 
should do, then he did right to break the vow, 
and needed no forgiveness. Had he not done 
as he did in reference to the vow, he would 
have done wrong, and would have needed a 
continual forgiveness until he did break it. 
As to breaking a vow, or even an oath, it can- 
not be wrong to break it, if keeping it is con- 
trary to God's will. God's will is the only 
3 



34 Cousin Eula; or, 

true rule governing right and wrong. What 
is not sin in God's eye is not sin at all, even 
though it be breaking vows and oaths. In how 
many ways Luther broke his vows I cannot 
tell, but I suppose at least in loving and marry- 
ing Katharine — a helpmeet indeed in his noble 
work. He certainly did not sin in this, for he 
was obeying God's law. God first made man. 
"And the Lord God said, It is not good that 
the man should be alone; I will make him a 
helpmeet for him." "So God created man 
in his own image, in the image of God created 
he him; male and female created he them. 
And God blessed them, and said unto them, 
Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the 
earth." . Thus in man's innocency God insti- 
tuted the marriage rite. Adam was the priest 
of his own household. Under the Old Testa- 
ment dispensation the priests had their wives 
and families, nor was the custom abrogated 
under the New Testament law. Peter, whom 
the Catholics call their first priest — or rather 
now, pope, but fail to prove it — had a wife. 
"And when Jesus was come into Peter's house, 
he saw his wife's mother laid, and sick of a 
fever." Paul declared he had a right to lead 
about a wife or sister, though we are not as- 
sured he ever had either. Perhaps he did not 



A Catholic Converted. 35 

marry because his life was one of incessant 
toil, going from place to place planting and 
watering Churches. There was a time when 
but few Methodist ministers had wives; but it 
was not because God's law or Church-law pro- 
hibited marrying, but because of expediency. 
In the earlier days of our Church the minis- 
ters had many hardships, and their support 
was meager. For these reasons our preachers 
refrained from marrying, though there could 
not have been any sin in doing so. 




36 Cousin Eula; or, 



CHAPTER II. 

Prayer to the Virgin Mary is sin — Confession to the priest 
is idolatry — Penance is a work of supererogation — In- 
fallibility and other dogmas are absurdities. 

Bute. Cousin Eula, a while ago you asked me 
what I thought became of the people previous 
to the apostasy of Luther — I prefer to state it, 
previous to the Kef ormation. Also, if I did not 
think the Catholic Church the true Church. I 
have already answered these questions in part, 
but I now answer in general terms. I regard 
the doctrines and practices of the Catholic 
Church an abomination in the sight of the 
Lord. I do not sit in judgment upon the heart 
and conscience of any individual, yet I do say 
your Church, in doctrine and practice, is an 
abomination in the sight of the Lord. I know 
I have used strong language, but the facts 
warrant it. 

Eula. Cousin Buie, I knew you were preju- 
diced; the Methodist preachers are more prej- 
udiced against us than any others. 

B. We are never prejudiced against any one, 
or any thing, for the glory of God; but we can 
never compromise with any theory that makes 



A Catholic Converted. 37 

an idol of man or any thing else. Our God is 
a jealous God. Our worship must be direct 
toward God. We need no mediator except 
God the Son. 

E. What do you mean, cousin? Do you 
mean to say we worship idols in our Church? 

B. That is exactly what I mean. 

E. In what way do we worship idols? 

B. Your Mission Book there has a form of 
prayer to the Virgin Mary. Does not your 
Church use it? 

E. We certainly do. 

B. Such is idolatry. 

E. In what way? Was she not a holy woman, 
and the mother of Christ ? and has she not in- 
fluence with him ? and may we not ask her to 
use her influence in our behalf? 

B. I believe she was a holy woman, because 
her life and fidelity to Christ, even down to the 
day of his death, warrant such a belief. She 
was made holy just like every other person is 
made holy, for she was naturally sinful just 
like every one else is sinful. Mary, the mother 
of Jesus, was saved by the blood of her Son 
Jesus Christ, the Son of God, just like every 
other person is saved. Therefore, to make 
prayers to Mary, is a violation of the first com- 
mandment in the Decalogue: " Thou shalt have 



38 Cousin Eula; oe, 

no other gods before me. Thou shalt not make 
unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of 
any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in 
the earth beneath, or that is in the water un- 
der the earth. Thou shalt not bow down thy- 
self to them, nor serve them; for I the Lord 
thy God am a jealous God." Therefore I say 
you cannot ask, petition, or make prayers to 
Mary, or any other saint in heaven — no, not 
even the angels — without being guilty of idol- 
atry. 

I truly believe Mary was the mother of Je- 
sus, yet she has no influence with him in the 
sense in which you speak, nor is such influence 
needed under any circumstances. The heart 
of Jesus is all love. He is ever willing to give 
us the benefit of his redeeming grace on cer- 
tain conditions, and those conditions are laid 
down in his word. His word is the eternal 
truth, and not one jot or tittle of it shall pass 
away unfulfilled. 

The great benefit of prayer is to prepare our 
souls for the reception of blessings He is ever 
willing to bestow upon us. The benefit of 
prayer, in the second place, is prayer for one 
another that God's Spirit may operate upon the 
persons for whom we pray, and thus prepare 
them for such blessings as they need. Such 



A Catholic Converted. 39 

prayer of influence God's word authorizes; but 
nowhere in God's word are we authorized to 
pray to, or petition, any saint or angel to pray 
for us. Nor are we assured in his word of any 
prayer for us in heaven, except the prayer of 
"Jesus, our High-priest, who ever liveth to 
make intercession for us." 

I charged your Church with being guilty of 
an abomination in the sight of the Lord, in that 
you make confession to the priest. Do you 
not? 

E. "We do. But, cousin, in your Church you 
have class-meetings, and make confession. 

B. We used to have class-meetings, and our 
Church-law provides for such now; but I am 
sorry to say they are almost obsolete. In our 
class-meetings we relate some part of our Chris- 
tian experience to edify each other. Or, if we 
so desire, we make known our griefs or short- 
comings, that we may bear each other's burdens, 
and so fulfill the law of Christ. "We relate only 
what we are inclined to relate. If questions 
are asked us, and answers given, it is only in- 
tended in order to better enable those wiser in 
spiritual things to instruct and comfort us — ■ 
not that we expect or desire from any person 
any benefit from absolution. Our class-meet- 
ings are more in the spirit of communion one 



40 Cousin Eula; or, 

with another, based upon such scriptures as 
these: "Then they that feared the Lord spake 
often one to another; and the Lord hearkened, 
and heard it, and a book o£ remembrance was 
written before him for them that feared the 
Lord, and that thought upon his name." "And 
they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in 
that day when I make up my jewels." "And 
let us consider one another to provoke unto love 
and to good works." " Not forsaking the assem- 
bling of ourselves together." " To do good and 
to communicate forget not." Your confession 
to the priest is with the view of receiving pardon 
for sin. 

E. But, cousin, the priest tells us that unless 
we repent in our hearts, and unless Christ for- 
gives us, our confession avails nothing. 

B. Admit it. Does he not grant you absolu- 
tion from sin ? 

E. Yes, he grants us absolution from sin, 
but we are to do penance afterward. 

B. But does he not teach you that unless he 
grants you absolution Christ will not forgive 
you? 

E. Yes, sir. 

B. Well, then, the forgiveness of your sins 
is made dependent upon some one else outside 
of Christ, and Christ himself is made depend- 



A Catholic Converted. 41 

ent upon the will of the priest, and secondary 
to the priest. Such a theory makes Christ a 
mere machine, to be turned by the will of the 
priest; and unless the priest wills to turn the 
machine, you go away unforgiven. Therefore 
I say again, in your confession you are mock- 
ing God, and are guilty of idolatry. 

Wife. Well, Cousin Eula, I think you are 
pretty badly tangled. 

E. So I am. I knew I could not argue with 
Cousin Buie. 

B. It is not my strength or your weakness, 
cousin; but your position being false, the ar- 
gument must of necessity be weak. 

We have seen, cousin, how the forgiveness 
of your sins is made dependent upon the will 
of the priest. This being the case, according 
to your practice, he is your only mediator, and 
only hope — a hope nauseating to the human 
soul. We will next notice penance. 

With the foregoing statements, to require 
penance of you is mockery; yet you have told 
me that you were required to do penance after 
absolution; and with the true theory, penance 
is a work of supererogation. 

It is true the priest tells you unless you truly 
repent in your heart his absolution will be of 
no benefit to you, and adds penance in either 



42 Cousin Eula; or, 

case. Now, let us see wherein lies the merit of 
forgiveness of sins according to Roman Catho- 
lic theory, or rather, being cleansed from all 
sin, for nothing short of this will satisfy the 
human soul. The priest tacitly admits the 
worthlessness of absolution, in that he teach- 
es you without repentance of heart his abso- 
lution avails nothing; for he cannot really 
know whether or not your repentance is gen- 
uine or hypocritical: he admits it, in that you 
are to do penance afterward. It is clear that 
being cleansed from sin is not found in absolu- 
tion. You cannot, according to your theory, 
receive it direct from Christ, for it is claimed 
that absolution must of necessity precede 
Christ's forgiveness. Then we look with a 
gasping hope to the act of penance. As the 
forgiveness of Christ is made dependent upon 
the absolution of the priest, it seems to me to 
be but mocking you to send you off to do pen- 
ance, since you have settled the account with 
the priest. If there be any virtue in his grant- 
ing you absolution, the penance following is 
useless, and a second paying of the debt. 

When you are really forgiven by Him who 
alone has power on earth to forgive sins — I 
mean Jesus Christ — there will be no need 
why you should go on mourning and torturing 



A Catholic Converted. 43 

yourself about sins already forgiven. The 
true theory is repentance toward God, and 
faith toward the Lord Jesus Christ. This di- 
rect, you need no priest save Christ, and no 
penance whatever. 

Cousin Eula, I find great objections to your 
Church in its claims to infallibility, and other 
absurd claims contrary to reason and revela- 
tion. Infallibility was not claimed for the 
Church in the early centuries of the Christian 
era. It is the result of human depravity found 
in the pride of the human heart. There is 
nothing in the Eoman Catholic Church to base 
it upon. No one can tell where to find it; even 
Catholic authorities are not agreed. One coun- 
cil will locate infallibility in the pope, another 
in the Church, and yet another in the pope and 
Church in council. So we find it all through 
the history of the Eoman Catholic Church— 
an infallible Church, anathematizing and con- 
tradicting its infallible self. 

Immutability is necessarily a component 
part of infallibility. Yet I find from history 
that popes anathematize their predecessors 
and former councils. They abrogate and 
condemn what has been taught before them, 
and declare new doctrines contrary to former 
ones. So facts and history disprove the 



44 Cousin Eula; or, 

claim of the Roman Catholic Church to infalli- 
bility. 

Infallibility of the Church is not sustained 
by Scripture. I know what Catholics claim 
for it. They claim Peter as the rock upon 
which Christ built his Church: if it were true, 
then the foundation would be human, and not 
divine; while the truth is, Christ is the chief 
corner-stone, precious, elect. But Christ 
taught that he himself was the Rock. Yet 
Christ did commend Peter's faith, and say the 
gates of hell should not prevail against the 
Church. But the Church must rest upon the 
same faith that was in Peter, and find expres- 
sion in the words, " Thou art the Christ, the 
Son of the living God." Christ did say, "I 
will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of 
heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt bind on 
earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatso- 
ever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in 
heaven." True, Christ's disciples have the keys 
in all ages; and as the Church is pure and 
faithful, heaven is made accessible to those 
who come in contact with the Church; but as 
the Church is impure and unfaithful, they 
present nothing but darkness and ruin to the 
world, and thus bind the world. He also said 
in this line, " Ye are the light of the world." 



A Catholic Converted, 45 

Infallibility is not only not sustained by Script- 
ure, but it is contrary to Scripture and to reason. 

We know that God is infallible; and all con- 
cede the Bible to be the word of God; there- 
fore, the Bible is the infallible truth of God. 
As the Bible is closed and complete, there can- 
not be any infallible truth added to it. That 
which is decreed outside, and contrary to the 
Bible, shows the mutability of the decreeing 
power, which destroys the claim of infalli- 
bility. 

We find mutability and changeableness run- 
ning all through the history of the Catholic 
Church; therefore, she has ever been fallible. 
This so-called infallible Church decrees that 
its members shall believe all its decrees, and 
whatever they may hereafter in council decree. 
So that, in following the decrees of the Boman 
Catholic Church, you can never know that you 
have the right rule of faith. The true faith 
may be just ahead, or in some decree centuries 
yet to come. An infallible Church, if it were 
possible for one to be so, in the very nature of 
the case destroys an infallible Bible; there- 
fore, infallibility cannot be in any Church. 
Infallibility in the Church has many objec- 
tions, and works many evils. It takes away 
your right of private judgment, which regal 



46 Cousin Eula; oe, 

right you cannot surrender to any one or any 
Church; for to do so would make you no more 
than a brutish slave. In the same train of evil 
it destroys personal responsibility and ac- 
countability, which lead iii the wake of ruin to 
materialism, atheism, and destructionalism. 

We have seen this claim has no scriptural 
support, is disproved by history, and reason 
revolts at it. 

Closely connected with this infallible claim, 
and growing out of it, are other absurd claims. 
In the thirteenth century this infallible Church 
introduced transubstantiation. Common sense 
and reason so revolt at this claim that the 
Church itself cannot believe it. Take the 
bread in the mass. After consecration, the 
Church tells us " that the substance bread is 
transubstantiated, changed into another sub- 
stance" — namely, the real divinity of Christ's 
soul and body. But test this transubstantia- 
tion theory by every known law of reasoning, 
and you will find it bread still. It feels like 
bread, it looks like bread, it tastes like bread; 
it is bread just as it was before. But this in- 
fallible Church tells us it is a miracle, and you 
cannot see it, or feel it, or know it; nevertheless 
it is true. Very well, let us see. When Moses 
changed the dust into lice, everybody could 



A Catholic Converted. 47 

know it; they looked like lice, the Egyptians 
knew they were lice. When Christ changed 
the water into wine, it looked like wine, it 
tasted like wine; the governor of the feast 
knew it was wine, and good wine. But I can- 
not know that a mere wafer is the divinity of 
Christ, with his soul and body, by any test 
whatever; but I know it is not, by reason and 
by the law of miracles. 

In the dark ages of the world purgatory was 
introduced, and in the mass prayer for the dead. 
These are without the shadow of Scripture to 
stand on. The truth of it is, they were con- 
ceived and decreed by this infallible Church 
to bring revenues into the Church. But this 
seems a waste of time, for I know your good 
sense will not allow you to accept of the false 
dogmas of the Church of Borne mentioned in 
this chapter. 



48 Cousin Eula; or, 



CHAPTER III. 

How Eula became a Catholic — Little Alice, of seven years 
— Little Lucy, of five years — Sabbath morning — Sun- 
day-schools — Sabbath evening — Sisters of Charity. 

Bute. "Well, Cousin Eula, will you please tell 
me how you came to be a Eoman Catholic? 

Eula. Cousin Buie, I really cannot tell you 
how I came to be a Catholic, for I do not 
know. 

B. Well, let us see. How long since you 
joined the Catholics? 

E. About three months. 

B. How long since you came to this place ? 

E. Three years. 

B. You were a Methodist before you came 
here? 

E. For several years. 

B. We have had no Church here since you 
came to this place? 

E. None at all. 

B. Were the Sisters very kind to you? 

E. They were very kind indeed; they were 
a great help to me during my sore trials. One 
year and a-half ago little Alice, of seven years, 
diod. Five months ago little Lucy, of five 



A Catholic Converted. 49 

years, died of yellow fever. Johnnie had yel- 
low fever also. 

B. Now, cousin, we are prepared to tell you 
how you became a Roman Catholic. 

E. Well, please tell me; for I cannot tell 
you. 

B. When you came to this place the Church 
of your choice was not here; so you probably 
attended service alike at the Protestant and 
Catholic Churches. At the Catholic Church 
the service seemed sufficiently attractive, rath- 
er fascinating; nothing very distasteful, except 
rather too much form and ceremony. In this 
way you came under Catholic influence to some 
extent. Next you say the Sisters were very kind 
to you, especially in your affliction, just at the 
very time when your heart and mind were in 
their softest mood, and most susceptible of 
being impressed. They were kind, I do not 
doubt — all for a purpose, though you knew it 
not. These Sisters are called Sisters of Char- 
ity. Their business is to be kind — all for the 
Church. Every person and every thing in Ca- 
tholicism must work for the Church. The 
Church is above all things with Catholics. All 
this time you were without any Protestant 
support, or any Protestant minister to visit 
you. 
4 



50 Cousin Eula; ok, 

E. Stop, cousin; justice to whom justice is 
due: the Presbyterian minister and his wife 
both came to see me. 

B. Very well, cousin; I gladly accept your 
statement. God bless the Presbyterians, and 
their noble work! But one or two Protestant 
visits are more than overcome by the continued 
watchings and labors of the Sisterhood. Again, 
did they not persuade you to join their Church ? 

E. Not a great deal. 

B. What about books ? 

E. They brought me a great many books. 

B. And you read a great deal? 

E. I did. 

B. Cousin, those books you read were all on 
one side of the question, and you read them 
too when you were in the deep waters of afflic- 
tion. Doubtless your soul was longing after 
God and happiness— ready to receive almost 
any advice that might be given you. You be- 
lieved those friends, and their books, kindly 
tendered, were brought you to win your soul 
for Christ and heaven; you never suspected 
any thing else — especially when every thing 
was indorsed by so much kindness — when re- 
ally they were only after you for the Church. 

E. I did, during my loneliness from kindred 
and my Church, and in those deep waters of 



A Catholic Convekted. 51 

affliction, long for solid comfort for my soul; 
hence I read every thing they brought me. One 
book in particular had much influence over 
me. As well as I can remember, it was some- 
thing like a dialogue between a priest and 
Protestant minister; it convinced me that the 
Catholic Church was the true Church. 

B. Cousin, that book was doubtless formed 
by the same mind, and penned by the same 
hand — I mean each part — yet you never sus- 
pected it. One part was made weak, and the 
other strong, on purpose. The object of the 
book was to induce you to join their Church. 

No, cousin, instead of disliking you because 
you are a Catholic, far from it. You have 
passed through great trials. It is not a great 
wonder that you are a Catholic, and you have 
told us the way in w r hich you were made a 
Catholic. But instead of disliking you, you 
need my sympathy, my love, and my prayers 
— all of which you have, and shall continue to 
have. It is now growing late: we h ve already 
engaged in song; we will now read a lesson, 
and have family-prayers. 

E. [After prayer]: Well, cousin, when I re- 
ceived your card announcing your purpose to 
visit us, the first thing I thought of was, Ho 
will find me a Catholic. I cannot tell exactly 



52 Cousin Eula; or, 

how I did feel about it. I wanted to see you, 
and yet I did not. But I assure you to-night 
I am glad you are here. I have been expect- 
ing you to ask me every day to what Church 
I belonged. I accused mother of telling you, 
but she says she did not. 

B. No, your mother and I have not had a 
word in reference to your Church-relationship; 
but it was useless to ask what I already knew. 

E. How did you find it out ? 

B. First, those books on the table made mo 
fear. Then your husband and I walked out 
the first evening after I came, and on our re- 
turn we passed the Cathedral. I ventured 
the question with great fear, "'Mr. Uzenia, to 
what Church do you and your family belong? " 
"I do not belong to any; my wife belongs to 
the Catholic," was the reply. 

Sabbath morning, March 31st, was gloomy. 
The wind was driving the clouds up from tho 
sea, and a storm was threatening. 

E. Cousin, mother wishes you to have family- 
prayers this morning. 

B. Certainly, cousin, I will do so with pleas- 
ure. 

Evening-prayers had been attended to for 
three successive evenings, but the holy Sabbath 
was the first morning assemblage. 



A Catholic Converted. 53 

A morning walk and talk with Cousin 
George follows: 

Bide. George, tell me : I find your sister Eula 
a Roman Catholic, and I do not believe her to 
be satisfied or happy. What are your views 
on that subject? 

George . I do not believe my sister is satisfied 
either. And as for myself, I will never be a 
Roman Catholic. I have seen so much of it 
here I am sick of it. I have known some of 
the priests of this place to go so far as to re- 
quire the Catholic children to kneel down on 
the streets when the bishop was passing. 

B. Have you been solicited to join? 

G. O yes, ever since I came to this place 
three years since. One Sister in particular 
has seemed to make me a specialty. She fre- 
quently counseled with sister about me. For 
a long time I avoided her attacks by not being 
with her alone. One day Sister Lazarus told 
sister she wanted to see me alone. So I thought, 
If nothing else will do but she must try me, 
all right. The following conversation ensued: 

Sister Lazarus. Mr. George [familiarly, for 
this is only his Christian name], why do you 
not join the Church ? 

G. The Church of my choice is not here. 

S. L. But do you not like our Church? 



54 Cousijs Eula; or, 

G. Not very well. 

S. L. Well, why not, sir? What objections 
have you? 

G. Many. I object to your confession to 
the priest. 

S. L. Yon cannot be a Catholic unless you 
confess to the priest. 

G. So I am informed, and that alone is suf- 
ficient to settle the question; for be assured 
I will never make a confession to the priest. 
Therefore, I will never be a Koman Catholic. 

B. George, where are Cousin Eula's chil- 
dren buried ? 

G. Out in the new Catholic cemetery. 

J5. I am sorry. 

G. So am I; and I think sister is also. 

J5. How came them buried in the Catholic 
cemetery? Their mother was not a Catholic 
at that time. 

G. No, she was not; but the children were 
christened Catholics before they died. I never 
have seen as bright and strong-minded a girl 
as little Alice. She was just seven. [A pause.] 
During her sickness the Sisters of Charity were 
constantly on hand, and continually insisted 
on sister having Alice baptized, or else she 
would be lost. Finally, it was plain little Alice 
must die. The Sisters sent for the priest; he 



A Catholic Converted. 55 

.* 

came; he insisted on baptizing the child; sister 

yielded. I never heard any thing like it. [Si- 
lence and tears.] Little Alice said, " No, moth- 
er, I do not want to be a Catholic. You know 
grandmother is not a Catholic." 

She had not forgotten her grandmother's 
example and teachings, though she was only 
five years old when she saw her last. But she 
was christened a Catholic. Yes, dear little 
Alice died a Catholic in name, a Protestant in 
reality. Her name on earth is registered a 
Catholic. Her body sleeps in the Catholic 
cemetery. A cross, the first symbol of Catholic 
aggressiveness, stands erected over her grave. 
Her name is used to swell the statistics of the 
Catholic Church in this world, but her name 
is registered elsewhere; the recording angel 
has written it in the "Lamb's book of life." 
He wrote, moreover, what her spirit said: 
"No, mother, I do not want to be a Catholic." 
You may write her name among the statistics 
of the earth, "Died a Catholic," but Heaven 
denies, and Truth says she died protesting. 
Her pure little spirit is in heaven now, singing 
the song of redeeming love, and ascribing 
praise to Him who only is our Priest — yes, 
the Priest also of children; for it was Ho 
who said, "Suffer the little children to como 



56 Cousin Etjla; or, 

unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is 
the kingdom of God." 

Little Alice is no more. The mother is yet 
firm. Books and persuasion have failed com- 
paratively. Still the mother must be sought 
after by those who are separated from the 
pleasures of the world, and shut up in the 
darkness of the convent away from the com- 
forts of pure, genuine religion. It is a law of 
carnality that misery in despair seeks to make 
others miserable. It is this carnal, Satanic 
spirit governing the devil and all his allied 
forces. Hence the only happiness of these 
obligated, imprisoned violators of Heaven's law 
was to bring others into the same carnal secu- 
rity. They had failed to reach the mother 
through the first-born, although they taught 
her in the convent-school. She was too bright 
for one of her years: the mother, and especially 
the grandmother, had left the impress of their 
teachings too deep upon her mind to be erased 
by after-teaching. 

Yet there is another chance. Here is little 
Lucy, only four years old now, still one year 
younger than when Alice came under Catholic 
influence. Besides, she was only two years 
old when separated from her grandmother. 
She had already been under their influence 



A Catholic Converted. 57 

for two years, but now she is to have special 
attention. Lucy was a sweet little pet, like 
Alice before her. She seemed now not only to 
be the idol of her mother, but of the Catholic 
city. She was carried from house to house. 
She was fondled upon Catholic knees. Many 
presents of beautiful Catholic pictures were 
hers. Pictures win children — Lucy was won. 
One year after Alice's death came yellow fever. 
There lay in that cottage-home Lucy and John- 
nie, racked with pain and scorched with fever. 
It was a distressing time. Assistance was 
much needed, and highly appreciated. The 
Sisters were very kind; they always are, but 
for what? To win for the 'Church. Little 
Lucy was christened a Catholic. She did say 
(whether taught or not, I know not), " Mother, 
I want you to join the Catholics, they are so 
kind." Thus passed away little Lucy, to join 
little Alice in heaven above. Now the work 
was done; little Lucy was used as the key to 
unlock the door. The long-fought battle was 
over: it was not long until the mother joined 
the Catholic Church — among other reasons 
assigned w r as the lingering words of her last 
little pet. 

Kindness is sufficient to win children — it is 
praiseworthy in its place ; but with the adult, 



58 Cousin Eula; or, 

it should not dethrone reason and win contrary 
to reason. Nor is kindness religion. Paul 
puts the question forcibly: "Though I bestow 
all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give 
my body to be burned, and' have not charity, 
it profiteth me nothing." " Charity " — that is, 
love, love toward God and man, love coming- 
out of a pure, regenerated heart, cleansed by 
the blood of Jesus, applied by the Holy Ghost. 
No other agent is needed. 

Those parents who send their children to 
Catholic schools, or rear them under Catholic 
influence, may expect their children to be 
Catholics. Every thing in Catholicism is ar- 
ranged to satisfy the carnal mind and unregen- 
erated heart. While the lust of the eye and 
the vanity of desire grow as the child grows, 
it is promised satisfaction in the forms and 
privileges of the Catholic religion. 

We have said the work was done, the battle 
won. But not always: there is a brighter day 
coming. "Except the Lord build the house, 
they labor in vain that build it." Yes, the day 
is coming when this massive structure of man 
will tumble and fall. Yes, the day is coming 
when religious freedom will be enjoyed all 
over this terrestrial ball as well as in the celes- 
tial world. Yes, Christ Jesus, the Morning 



A Catholic Convehted. 59 

Star — the true, real, and only Priest — is rising 
now, and will shine behind the curtain. 

Abject slaves of Rome, do you ask what of 
your oppression, and bonds of tyranny? "We 
answer in the language of the Holy Bible: 
" For He must reign until He hath put all en- 
emies under His feet." "Weep not: behold, 
the Lion of the tribe of Juda, the Root of Da- 
vid, hath prevailed to open the book." Do you 
ask, When shall this dark oppression pass, and 
the morning light come? We answer again 
from the Bible and sacred poetry: "Watch- 
man, what of the night? " The watchman said, 
"The morning cometh, and also the night." 

Roman Catholics, as well as Protestants, do 
not believe the pretended infallibility of the 
pope, nor the mockery of priestly confession. 
The temporal power of the Church of Rome is 
fast passing away. Its inside working and se- 
cret chains will lose their strength as the light 
shines in upon them, which shall soon come to 
pass. Many will say, The morning is come; 
the most formidable foe of our Lord and Mas- 
ter Jesus Christ is put to confusion. And true, 
the morning now dawns upon us, but only for 
awhile. The bloody martyrdoms of past ages, 
to some extent, may yet shade the light of the 
morning. Many may yet be called upon to die 



60 Cousin Eula; or, 

for the truth. But let us hope that the last 
night may be short, and thb morning come to 
be blighted no more. Thy word, O Lord, is 
the eternal truth! Let us sing together that 
beautiful hymn of Bowring's, in answer to our 
inquiry, "Watchman, what of the night?" 
(Hymn 765, M. E. Church, South, Hymn-book.) 

Watchman, tell us of the night, 

What its signs of promise are. 
Trav'ler, o'er yon mountain's height, 

See that glory-beaming star. 
Watchman, does its beauteous ray 

Aught of hope or joy foretell? 
Trav'ler, yes; it brings the day, 

Promised day of Israel. 

Watchman, tell us of the night; 

Higher yet that star ascends. 
Trav'ler, blessedness and light, 

Peace and truth, its course portends. 
Watchman, will its beams alone 

Gild the spot that gave them birth? 
Trav'ler, ages are its own ; 

See! it bursts o'er all the earth. 

Watchman, tell us of the night, 

For the morning seems to dawn. 
Trav'ler, darkness takes its flight, 

Doubt and terror are withdrawn. 
Watchman, let thy wand' rings cease; 

I Tie thee lo thy quiet home. 
Trav'ler, lo! the Prince of peace, 

Lo! iIk* Son of < rod is come. 



A Catholic Converted. 61 

Sabbath morning, at ten o'clock, we returned 
from our morning walk. As we drew near the 
house of my host, I said: " Cousin, it is proper 
that we should attend Church somewhere to- 
day — where shall we go?" 

G. Sister says she wishes you would go with 
her to the Catholic Church just once. 

B. "Well, I should like if we could spend this 
Sabbath together, as it is the first since child- 
hood, and may be the last to old age, if ever. 
I had really thought of proposing to Cousin 
Eula to accompany her to her Church either 
morning or evening, if she would consent to go 
with me to the Presbyterian Church the other 
service. 

G. Your proposition could not be regarded 
otherwise than fair, but I have no idea sister 
wall accept. 

It w r as now raining, and still threatening a 
storm. We arrived at the house, and found the 
mother bathed in tears. She said, " Eula has 
gone to her Church." 

Yes, reader, Eula was a conscientious wom- 
an, seeking the freedom of her soul by every 
sign and token of the Catholic Church. She 
was conscious of a burden of soul. She had 
made confession, and done penance, and lost 
sleep, until she did appear unnatural, no mis- 



62 Cousin Eula; or, 

take. She had never failed to attend to every 
assigned duty until Wednesday and Thursday 
evening before. Oil Wednesday her own dear 
mother came to see her, journeying a long 
distance by land and sea. 'She had not seen 
her in three years. No wonder she could not 
leave her good old wearied, loving mother that 
night. Yes, the mother was near sixty; the 
frost of many winters were fast preparing her 
honored head for the tomb. No wonder Eula 
cried when she told her mother, " I cannot read 
that book now, I am a Catholic." Wednesday 
brought the minister and his wife. We were 
on a mission five hundred miles away from our 
old home and near relatives. We were not re- 
ceiving traveling expenses, but hard earnings 
of oth er days bore us to Saint Augustine. Once 
more the cousins met. Twenty years and more 
had passed since we innocently played to- 
gether at the country school -house. No wonder 
our cousin broke the rules, though we knew 
it not then, for nothing had been said about 
service at the Cathedral. Doubtless it seemed 
now to the excited Catholic fraternity that the 
mother had written to the minister — above all 
others most likely to accomplish the object de- 
sired, namely, the reclaiming of the daughter, 
and bringing her back to the fold of the mother 



A Catholic Converted. 63 

Church, the Church of her first love — to meet 
her at the home of her daughter. This version 
of our visit would be most natural, and no one 
could be charged with being credulous for so 
believing. But such was not the case; for 
neither the mother nor the minister knew there 
was a Catholic in that household. I believe 
myself the plan was pre-arranged, but God 
evidently did it. 

Finding my cousin gone, I went first to a 
missionary Sunday-school taught by the Pres- 
byterians. It was in session when I entered. 
I passed from class to class, asking permission 
of the teachers to witness their instructions. 
The school was composed of eight white teach- 
ers, male and female, forty negroes, mostly 
small, and seventeen Indians. I was agreeably 
surprised to hear such perfect lessons from so 
small negro children. As a race, it is due to 
say they evidence a desire for scriptural knowl- 
edge. As I looked upon the young lady teach- 
ers taking such pains to teach those little ne- 
groes the way to Christ, I really felt they were 
more precious in my eye than the Queen of 
England. And I feel now they are more than 
queens in God's eye. 

I listened to one Indian class recite in part. 
They all read twice in concert the sixteenth 



64 Cousin Eula; or, 

verse of the third chapter of Saint John. Then 
they were called upon to repeat it by memory 
separately. Three out of four to whom I list- 
ened were successful. How it would delight 
the soul of every good man to hear these red 
men of the forest repeat in broken English: 
" For — God — so — loved — the — world — that — 
he — gave — his — on-ly — be-got-ten — Son — 
that — who-so-ev-er — be-liev-eth — in — him — 
should — not — per-ish — but — have — ever-last- 
ing — life! " I thought to myself that a sweeter 
and more appropriate scripture could not have 
been written upon the tablet of their hearts. 
May be they will be converted and sent back 
to Christianize and civilize their tribes. I 
have just learned to-day that the Secretary of 
War has ordered them to be sent back to Fort 
Sill, whence they came three years ago. About 
sixty of them have been at Saint Augustine for 
three years. That the Methodist Episcopal 
Church, South, has let this golden opportunity 
pass without teaching the poor Indian that 
there is a better heaven than the hunting- 
grounds of the West, and more noble aspira- 
tions even for the Indian than the scalping of 
the white man, as a member of said Church I 
write it with pain, Shame, shame on us ! 

You must allow me to again revert to those 



A Catholic Converted. 65 

pious lady teachers. My mind called in com- 
parison the work in which they were engaged 
with that in which my cousin was engaged. 
Also, in this service there was food for the soul, 
that made happiness beam out through every 
feature of the face; while in the other all was 
mockery, and tended to despair. All this time 
my soul was swelling with emotions of joyful 
gratitude. My eyes were overflowing with 
tears of joy. None knew the cause of their 
flowing save the Infinite One. I was just 
thanking God that a pure, spiritual-minded, 
soul-comforting religion had been given to a 
starving world of sinners, and that some of us 
had drunk of the living waters. Moreover, 
I was thinking, since such happiness is within 
the reach of man, how strange he does not ac- 
cept. I continued to think and feel for those 
ingulfed in carnal security and man-worship 
until I fully partook of the spirit of our Lord 
and Master when he looked over Jerusalem, 
perhaps weeping, afid said, "O Jerusalem, 
Jerusalem, which killest the prophets, and 
stonest them that are sent unto thee; how 
often would I have gathered thy children to- 
gether, as a hen doth gather her brood under 
her wings, and ye would not! " 

While my mind was comparing true and 



66 Cousin Eula; or, 

false religion, my heart was in such emotion 
that I hardly can tell whether the joy for those 
in possession of the true, or the sympathy for 
those possessed by the false, was in the ascend- 
ency; but while the joy for the one, and the 
sympathy for the other, are in contrast, yet 
not in opposition, for all true lovers of the 
Lord love the souls of men, and hate their sins, 
though it be false religion and false worship. 
Let those who read understand. A man's great 
foes are within his own household; his great- 
est foe is himself — self, the last enemy con- 
quered this side of death and the grave. That 
which nearest simulates the true Church of 
Christ and real religion, yet is not real and 
true, but contrary and opposed to the true, is 
the most dangerous foe with which the true 
Church of Christ has to contend; hence I write 
it: The most dangerous and formidable foe of 
the Church of Christ on earth is the Roman 
Catholic Church. 

I next attended the Presbyterian Church, 
and heard the Rev. Charles F. Deems, D.D., 
pastor of the " Church of the Strangers," New 
York City, preach an excellent sermon, full of 
food for the soul as well as the mind. His 
text was in Revelation, which led me to think 
of John the Beloved on the lonely Island of 



A Catholic Converted. 67 

Patnios; yet not alone, for Jesus was there 
with him. And though we be alone, and wan- 
dering missionaries, may we not claim the 
promise? For He hath said, "I will never 
leave thee, nor forsake thee." "And lo, I am 
with you alway, even unto the end of the world." 
All this time my sympathy for one in particular 
was consuming me. 

Sabbath afternoon, about two o'clock, two of 
the Sisters of Charity called around. They 
were peculiarly dressed, with long black capes, 
or coverings, over their heads. I was told their 
heads were shaved. What a pity that the 
glory of woman should be turned into shame ! 
It is said their heads are shaved to keep down 
self -pride, and to keep them humble in spirit; 
but I rather think to keep them slaves, lest 
they should go free from convent imprisonment. 
Yes, I here assert that Roman Catholicism is 
the most abject slavery of mind and soul the 
world has ever known. After I was satisfied 
that my cousin was in the sitting-room, I went 
in, for I wanted her to introduce me. I was 
then studying every movement. I took Sister 
Lazarus to be about thirty-five years of age, 
very talkative, rather familiar. She has ac- 
cepted her situation in life, and is doing her 
best to be happy in working for the Church. 



68 Cousin Eula; or, 

Sister Joseph I supposed to be between twenty- 
five and thirty years of age. Evidently she 
was unhappy; there was a soul within, like that 
of my cousin, longing to be free, yet so faint of 
hope that the sadness of despair was perched 
upon the expression of her face. Sister Laza- 
rus gave us some account of the convent-school. 
In reply to a question, she assured us they 
never made any effort to proselyte the children 
of Protestant parents — an untruth as base as 
the whole theory is false. As for myself, I did 
but little talking. I was listening, thinking, 
praying, and studying every look, sign, and 
word. One purpose, fixed and sealed, absorbed 
my whole heart, and that was by God's assist- 
ance I intended to reclaim my cousin, for I 
was satisfied she was unhappy. 

S. L. to the mother. Are you sorry your daugh- 
ter joined the Catholics? 

Mother. Yes, very sorry. 

She said no more then. 

S. L. to cousin. Well, she is not sorry, for she 
did it of her own accord. 

During this last remark she closely eyed my 
cousin, for she too had an object in view, and 
that was to defeat the object of our visit, as 
they supposed. Yes, she too was studying the 
advance of the enemy. 



A Catholic Converted. 69 

S. L. to cousin. Were you at Church to-day? 

E. Yes, ma'am. 

S. L. How did you like our new bishop? 

E. He preached a very fine sermon. 

My cousin made it convenient to inform 
Sister Lazarus that I was a minister; for she 
said afterward she knew I would speak my 
sentiments boldly if asked, and she sought to 
avoid Sister Lazarus's accustomed attack by 
informing her what I was. But it all availed 
nothing, as you will see. 

S. L. to cousin. Ah, he is a minister! 

5'. L. to the minister. Did you ever attend our 
Church? 

Minister. Only once. 

S. L. Only one time. Well, what do you 
think of us? 

M. Well, ma'am, I think your Church an 
abomination in the sight of the Lord. 

S. L. You do? We do not think that way 
about you. We think you are a good people, 
but do not go far enough. You do not believe 
in the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist, 
and we do. 

As if this was the only difference between 
Protestantism and Roman Catholicism! If she 
had known what Protestantism was, I should 
have believed her to have been avoiding the 



70 Cousin Eula; ok, 

truth. But when I remember she was reared 
in France, and has always been a mental and 
religious slave of the Church of Rome, I can 
understand that she only knows the prime 
reason why the immortal Luther left the 
Church of Rome, and perhaps she thinks this 
is all of Protestantism. She did not press her 
suit any farther, but soon looked at the clock, 
and said, "It is most three; we must be going." 

After the Sisters and I were aside, my cous- 
in jocosely said to my wife and her mother, 
"While I am real sad, yet I feel like laughing 
at Cousin Buie. He looked daggers at Sister 
Lazarus." 

I assure you, dear reader, I was not con- 
scious of appearing ungenteel, or in any way 
acting ungentlemanly toward the Sisters of 
Charity; but as I have been told of this fault 
before by familiar friends while I have been 
engaged in anxious thought, perhaps I ought 
to acknowledge the ground well taken. 

In the afternoon it was my privilege to visit 
the Presbyterian Sunday-school. It was an 
excellent school, well conducted. In most re- 
spects it might be considered a model school. 
But one thing I saw pained me much: their 
song-books were all marked, I suppose to keep 
them from being lost; this was well, but they 



A Catholic Converted. 71 

were marked with a cross. Doubtless they had 
borrowed this Catholic symbol unthoughtf ully. 
When will Protestant teachers and parents 
learn the true fact that children are taught first 
by signs? That which most quickly and forci- 
bly attracts the eye, most quickly and forcibly 
impresses the mind. With children especially 
the eye is the organ most intimately connected 
with the brain; hence the prominence of pict- 
ures in the Koman Catholic economy. Not 
only do they use them freely among their own 
fraternity, but they send them through the 
mail, and by agents, all over the country. They 
are cheap, very cheap, on purpose. And un- 
suspecting Protestants buy them to adorn their 
walls, and thus prepare the mind of the chil- 
dren for accepting the Catholic theory. Why 
that picture of the " Holy Virgin " ? she was 
only a woman. Why that double picture of 
"Mary and Christ"? she was only a woman, 
while he was God. Why the " Sacred Heart of 
Christ"? Look at it with the dagger through 
it! You behold it, and are taught to reverence 
it. Thus you reverence the material Christ, 
and lose sight of the spiritual Christ. Why 
that " Sacred Heart of Mary " ? Of course, sa- 
cred to Catholics, and must be reverenced equal 
with Christ, and prayed to like Christ. So I 



72 



Cousin Eula; ok, 



might continue to enumerate, but let him that 
readeth understand. "Be watchful," "Be so- 
ber," " Be not deceived." " God is not mocked." 
" For whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he 
also reap." 




A Catholic Convebted. 73 



CHAPTER IV. 

Religious conversation — Christian experience — My mother 
— My eldest sister, Cynthia — My youngest sister, Hattie. 

It was Sabbath night, March 31, 1878. There 
sat that night in the family-circle the mother, 
the two children, Eula and George, the minis- 
ter, and his w T ife. 

As is often my custom, I suggested we have 
a family religions conversation. The mother 
spoke to us as follows: "It was some forty 
years ago when I was early converted to God 
at a camp-meeting. I feel that I still love my 
Saviour and the Church, especially the Meth- 
odist Church, for it was under its influence I 
was brought to Christ when a gay girl. I have 
an abiding faith in the promises of God, and 
a strong hope of getting to heaven by and by. 
I have tried to bring my children up in the 
way in which they should go, and I daily pre- 
sent them to God. I regret that I have not 
been more faithful in all my duties, but I trust 
God to forgive me my short - comings, and I 
believe he has. I have a sweet peace abiding 
within." 

The two children had no Christian experi- 



74 Cousin Eula; ok, 

ence to relate, but they sat silently listening to 
the burning words of their loving mother, re- 
solving to meet her in heaven. 

The wife also spoke of her early conversion 
to God, of her joyful triumphs in the Christian 
race; also of her besetting sin, pride and vanity. 
She had always wrestled with it — sometimes 
conquering, sometimes being conquered. For 
six years, since she had been the wife of a 
minister, she had endeavored to do her whole 
duty, and be a helpmeet indeed, not hindering, 
but assisting, the work of her husband; felt 
that her part was poorly done, but desired 
above all to fill the sphere in life to which she 
was wedded; felt she was happy that she was 
joined to so great a work. 

Reader, we never felt otherwise than that 
God directed our union. 

Next came the minister's turn to speak in that 
family love-feast, and freely did I talk, for my 
heart burned within me that night as did the 
disciples' when Christ talked to them by the 
way. I told them how I was convinced of sin 
at twelve years of age. At fourteen I sought 
the Saviour, during an old-field Methodist re- 
vival. After three days and nights of honest 
seeking religion at the altar of prayer, where 
thousands have been converted, I was born to 



A Catholic Converted. 75 

Jesus. I did not need any one to tell me ; Jesus 
made me feel it all. I arose from the altar, 
and went and sat on my mother's knees. Chil- 
dren should be encouraged to seek religion; it 
is as sweet to them as grown people, and Jesus 
knows as well how to make himself known to 
children as to adults. He loves them as well, 
and is just as willing to save them, and make 
them happy. I felt it my duty then to pray in 
my father's family, and by and by to preach 
the gospel. A couple of years brought the 
civil war, and I tendered my services as a sol- 
dier. I told them of my vow during the war: 
"O God, save me alive through this cruel war! 
Let me see my mother and the family again, 
and then I will preach the gospel." I told 
them how her son (their brother) and I re- 
treated from the battle-field — I wounded, he 
escaped. With me the war was over so far as 
my exposure to the battle-field was concerned. 
But that vow, it was upon me; shall I ever pay 
it? One month passed in the hospital, and 
then I went to the refugee home of my father 
and elder sister. With my wound came sick- 
ness, all to bring me in subjection to God's 
will. But wound and sickness for eight months 
were not sufficient. Eight months of sickness 
and convalescence had passed, and then I felt 



76 Cousin Eula; or, 

my sickness was ended. I will soon get well 
to do good or evil. O it was an eventful hour 
in my history! I could not afford to miss 
heaven. I believed my soldier - brother was 
there; I believed my mother was on the way, 
and all the good of all ages past are there; 
above all, Jesus is there, and if I failed I 
intended to die trying. Family-prayer and 
preaching were the burdens my soul had been 
carrying for a long time, but could, not longer 
carry without divine assistance. As I felt the 
great issue of human happiness or misery had 
come to a final test, I fasted, prayed, and 
talked of our blessed Saviour for forty-eight 
hours. Yes, during these two days and nights 
I neither ate, drank, nor slept. My poor father 
did think me in a queer way. He paced the 
floor, and was greatly troubled. At the expira- 
tion of the time above mentioned I did find 
that heavenly grace I had so long sought, 
which enabled me to do my duty. I said, " Fa- 
ther, I have a long time felt it my duty to hold 
family-prayer, and by and by to preach. Can 
I have your permission? " " Certainly, my son, 
whatever you wish," was the kind reply. I did 
there pray my first oral prayer, and was very 
happy. Since then all the family have been 
converted except father. Mother and four sis- 



A Catholic Converted. 77 

ters have gone up to heaven. The three boys 
are all at home— all endeavoring to be relig- 
ious. I would be pleased if God would call 
them to preach. 

I want to tell you of mother and sister 
Cynthia. You know, aunt, mother had a 
hacking cough before you left the up-country. 
She never recovered from it. It terminated in 
consumption, and ended her life the twenty- 
fifth of July last. Sister Cynthia had con- 
sumption also. She passed away the same 
day, just eight and three-quarter hours before 
my precious mother. Mother began crossing 
the stream of death at five o'clock in the even- 
ing. She was about eighteen and a-half hours 
'crossing. Sister Cynthia was in an opposite 
room, with hall between. She could see my 
mother. She lifted her eyes toward heaven, 
as if praying for grace to bear it. But her hus- 
band, sitting by her bedside, thought she was 
asking to go also; for she had previously said 
to me, "If God is willing, I would like to die 
with my mother." We had thought she would 
be with us a few days longer; but God's 
thoughts are above our thoughts, and his ways 
are not like our ways. Just a quarter to three 
in the morning I was hurriedly summoned to 



78 Cousin Eula; or, 

the bedside of my sister. It was to witness but 
one breath, and all was over. Her pure spirit 
had flown. A younger brother passing through 
my mother's room soon after, weeping, my 
mother said, " Crawford, is ybur sister dying? " 
She was answered, "No, mother, she is dead." 
Yes, it was just about the time the morning- 
star was rising to tell the watchman " the morn- 
ing cometh " that the spirit of my dear sister 
became a shining star in the crown of the risen 
Lord. 

During the night, as I watched by the side 
of my mother, and felt her pulse, she said, 
"How long before I shall go?" "Not before 
morning, mother." "Do not pray for me to 
stay; I want to go." " Is it hard to die, mother? " 
" Not hard, except bodily suffering." Then she ' 
said, " The promise is, ' I will never leave thee, 
nor forsake thee.'" She said to the younger 
boys, " My sons, I have been praying for your 
father nearly forty years. I am dying now, 
but may be God will convert him yet." The 
morning came. We were sorrowful, yet happy. 
The great sun of the day rose brightly in the 
eastern horizon, and began its usual course; 
but it seemed another sun was setting, another 
star was rising still brighter, to burst its beau- 
teous rays of light in the New Jerusalem — it 



A Catholic Converted. 79 

was in the person of one of the best mothers 
the world ever knew. The light of life was 
fading, its rays were sinking fast, but only to 
shine on the other side through the portal- 
gates of glory. The husband, the children, a 
daughter-in-law, sons-in-law, a few neighbors, 
one or two faithful servants, stood around her 
bed while she extended her hand and gave each 
one a farewell blessing, bidding us meet her in 
heaven. But God's appointed time was not 
yet. As the morning passed on, and relatives 
and friends came in, she continued to each her 
farewell shake of the hand, and parting bene- 
diction to meet her in heaven. Eleven o'clock 
a.m. brought the Eev. R. H. Parker, of the 
Holston Conference, pastor of the Methodist 
Episcopal Church, South, Chattanooga, Ten- 
nessee. It also brought the last sinking stage 
of my dying mother. 

We were all again summoned to look on as 
she was passing through the land of Beulah. 
As my father drew near, my mother said, 
"Turn, turn to Jesus; why will you die?" 
This was her last sermon. Jesus was her 
theme while living, Jesus was her theme when 
dying. My mother asked, as I sat by her side, 
"Why don't you pray?" "Mother, we aro 
praying all the time." But soon I guessed her 



80 Cousin Eul.v; ok, 

meaning better, for she could hardly speak 
then. " Mother, do yon want Brother Parker 
to lead us in prayer?" "Yes." All knelt 
but myself. I sat as watch over my mother. 
Brother Parker offered a beautiful prayer. I 
saw my father kneel, and tremble like an aspen- 
leaf. I thought, There is yet hope for the sal- 
vation of my father. Prayer over, mother called 
for a song. A hymn was sung. I then said, 
"Mother, do you want more singing? " "No, 
my son." She was full of song herself. She 
said, in poetic strain, "Jesus is coming! he 
comes now! Glory be to God! glory, glory! 
Jesus! heaven!" And these were the last 
words of my dying mother. 

But, dear reader, do not suppose this con- 
versation occurred in the same length of time 
it has required you to read it. O no — much 
longer; for there were moments of silence, 
when our handkerchiefs were brought into 
requisition. We sighed, we cried; our hearts 
burned within us. We resolved to meet them in 
heaven. Among us of tender heart was Cousin 
Eula, her face bathed in tears, longing for that 
religion of heart that gives genuine peace. 

May be you will not think me tedious in 
this chapter if I tell you more of our talk 
with aunt and cousins. 



A Catholic Converted. 81 

The next day there lay in the hall two rose- 
wood caskets, side by side. They contained 
the bodies from whence two pure spirits had 
flown. The Rev. Thomas McCauley and the 
Rev. R. H. Parker attended the funeral serv- 
ices — one a Presbyterian minister, the other 
a Methodist; for my mother was a Presbyte- 
rian, and my sister a Methodist. About two 
hundred persons attended the funeral. The 
ministers did their part well; but all did not 
satisfy my longing soul. I arose, and said, "I 
want to say to neighbors and friends, this is a 
memorable day in our family. After to-day 
we shall never look upon their faces again 
until the resurrection morning. I have no 
fears but they are safe now. We are all sor- 
rowful, yet happy in the trust in gospel truth 
and redeeming grace. Our family are now 
just half divided — mother and half the chil- 
dren are now gone. We confidently believe 
they are gone to glory. Father and five of us 
are yet alive : what our end shall be God only 
knows. As for myself, by God's grace I in- 
tend to make heaven my home. For seven- 
teen years I have prayed that our family 
might be one in heaven; that we might, when 
earth was no more, form a golden chain with- 
out a missing link around the great white 
6 



82 Cousin Eula; or, 

throne in glory. God's hand is in all this. 
He may be answering my prayers in this way. 
I shall pray on. If it takes this to lead us all 
to heaven, I say Amen. "Who will be next? 
If it is I, I feel I am ready." 

During these remarks my father, who sat 
near by, trembled and wept. Before the beau- 
tiful caskets were finally closed, my father led 
the way, and imprinted a kiss upon each of 
the foreheads of those we had so dearly loved. 
We all followed, and did likewise. I felt they 
were kisses of promise — " We will meet you 
in heaven." Heaven, sweet heaven! it has 
always seemed nearer since my mother has 
gone there. They were both deeply pious — 
their prayers were very sweet in the country 
church. The community missed them much 
■ — the family missed them more. 

Again I entered my work of love — preach- 
ing Christ. Just two weeks passed away, and 
I saw my youngest and last sister, Hattie, 
suffer twenty-four hours, when death, stern, 
unrelenting, set free her gentle spirit. She 
was a good woman, retiring in her manners, 
while a lamblike, dovelike spirit was hers; yet 
she was accustomed to lead others to the altar 
of prayer and to Christ. This was to us the 



A Catholic Converted. 83 

destructive lightning flash, the pealing thun- 
der. It came, too, at a time when we were 
looking for the gentle dew of heaven. She 
left us no dying testimony, but her life was 
so gentle and pure none was needed to insure 
us of the rest of the spirit. Again our house 
was draped in mourning. Again the funeral 
announcement was sent out. Again the min- 
ister — the Eev. R. H. Parker — was sent for; 
he came, and preached her funeral - sermon. 
Again another beautiful rose-wood casket 
marked the place where two had lain just two 
weeks before. Now there is but one coffin, 
but within lies a mother, and on each arm a 
sweet babe, that perished ere they lived. The 
cemetery was once more visited, and our dead, 
but not lost, were laid there. 

That night the Rev. R. H. Parker and 
others were with us. After a sad meal, a fam- 
ily prayer - meeting was suggested. My fa- 
ther's permission was asked and granted. 
After a hymn was sung, Brother Parker led 
us in an appropriate prayer for the broken- 
hearted family. Alternately we sung and 
prayed. Sweet, loving prayers of resignation 
were offered by Cousin Foster, Brother James, 
brothers-in-law William and Alexander Haw- 
kins, my wife, and myself. Brother Alexan- 



84 Cousin Eula; or, 

der's prayer — the last bereaved husband — I 
shall never forget, a part of which I will here 
record. He said, slowly: "O Lord, there has 
been one accustomed to kneel with us who is 
absent to-night; there is a vacant place in our 
hearts the world can never fill. Come, O 
Lord Jesus, and fill it now. O Lord, thou 
didst give to me, in answer to prayer, my dear 
Hattie; thou hast taken her away; blessed be 
the name of the Lord. Amen." It was indeed 
a prayer of resignation, and we all so felt it, 
and have tried to be resigned. The prayer- 
meeting closed with an exhortation from 
Brother Parker, and a proposition to all pres- 
ent who would try to meet our beloved dead 
in heaven to manifest it. All present, includ- 
ing my father, gave their hand. O Lord, help 
us to redeem our vows! You may think 
strange, aunt, but that very night, in the 
same room where my mother died, shouting, 
some two weeks before, I was able to praise 
God. Yes, I believe that each and all of us 
found grace to kiss the rod that struck the 
blow. 

But to return to my direct Christian expe- 
rience. I too have my regrets on account of 
neglected duty, for which I pray God to for- 
give me. My idea of the rule of right and 



A Catholic Converted. 85 

wrong is God's will; any other standard o£ 
right and wrong I regard as false. My idea 
of living in the discharge of Christian duty is 
to obey every impression of the Holy Ghost. 
To disobey God's word, or the Holy Spirit, is 
sin. Generally, I have obeyed the Spirit, and 
been happy; but a few times I have deeply 
grieved the Spirit — twice in particular the 
vivid impression is on my mind. Some years 
ago I was very happy in my room at a late 
hour of the night — perhaps it was about the 
time of night that Paul and Silas prayed and 
sung together in prison. I felt that I ought 
to arise and dress myself, and go and present 
the claims of Christ to my father. I did not 
— I grieved the Holy Spirit. Had I done my 
duty, perhaps that night my father might have 
been converted. Of one thing I am sure : had 
I not suppressed the Spirit, my father's house 
would have been vocal with shouts to God 
that night. Another time was after my mother 
died. It was again in the night-watch. I felt, 
I am sure now, if I will go and present "Jesus, 
the only name," to my father, he will be con- 
verted. But again I did not. I feel to-night 
that God has forgiven me, and if we see each 
other's face again, I will try to do my duty 
to my father. He is now nearing four-score 



86 Cousin Eula; ok, 

years. But God is able to do all things — there 
is yet hope. 

The hour of retirement had arrived. My 
aunt proposed prayers. I could but say, 
"You must excuse me to-lright; my soul is too 
happy." My aunt and Cousin George left the 
parlor, but my Cousin Eula remained, her 
face hid for a time in her handkerchief, and 
doubtless wondering, "Shall I ever realize 
that joy that maketh the heart glad? " 




A Catholic Convekted. 87 



CHAPTER V. 

My cousin is unhappy — Faith — Justification — Grace — 
Witness of the Spirit. 

Being left to ourselves, after a pause, I said 
to Cousin Eula, "Are you happy to-night? " 

Eida. Not happy, Cousin Buie; I have not 
been satisfied with my religion to-day. I do 
not know what I am to do. I have honestly 
been seeking happiness for the last two years, 
but I have not found it. I did every thing I 
knew to do, and, as a last resort, I joined the 
Catholics. But still I am very unhappy — I am 
lost! Others may be happy, but I never more 
shall be happy. 

Buie. Cousin, you need not despair. Others 
worse than you have been saved; and so can 
you be saved. 

E. Do you think so? 

B. I know so, if you will use the proper 
means. Paul was of the Pharisaical sect — 
a persecutor of the followers of Jesus. He 
stood by and held the clothes of those who 
slew Stephen, consenting to his death. t He 
was particeps criminis to the crime. After- 



88 Cousin Eula; or, 

ward, lie was on his way to Damascus, breath- 
ing out threatenings against the disciples of 
the Lord. "And as he journeyed, he came 
near Damascus; and suddenly there shined 
about him a light from 'heaven." He also 
heard a voice. It was the voice of Jesus call- 
ing him to repentance and duty: "Saul, Saul, 
why persecutest thou me?" What could he 
have answered but "Lord, what wilt thou 
have me to do? " The Lord showed him that 
the very one he had been persecuting he must 
now trust. Saul was there converted, and 
became ever afterward the noble Paul. The 
secret of his success and grand character was 
in his words, "Lord, what wilt thou have me 
to do? " And this too is the key-note for all 
who would be happy. When honestly asked, 
with a fixed purpose to obey, God's answer 
always opens the flood-gates of glory, and 
lets the light of heaven into the soul of the 
asker. 

And now, cousin, I must say to you that 
heretofore your faith has not been well 
founded. You must turn away from priest- 
ly mockery, and put your entire trust in 
Jesus, "for his name is the only name 
whereby we can be saved." Faith in Christ, 
and in Christ only, is the foundation of the 



A Catholic Converted. 89 

Christian religion. What yon need, my dear 
cousin, is peace — peace of soul, peace with 
God. It is that peace that is sometimes de- 
scribed as flowing like a deep, gentle river; for 
deep in the sonl is the peace of a real Chris- 
tian. It passeth all understanding, for it is 
the peace of infinitude, not entirely to be com- 
prehended by the finite mind. Such a peace is 
found in believing on the Lord Jesus Christ. 

I will now explain to you the remedial plan 
of salvation — Faith: "Whosoever believeth 
on Him shall not perish, but have eternal 
life." "Therefore, being justified by faith, 
we have peace with God through our Lord 
Jesus Christ." We have in this text "faith," 
"justification," "peace," "God the Father," 
"our Lord Jesus Christ." 

To-night your heart condemns you. If our 
hearts condemn us, God is greater than our 
hearts. What you want is peace of soul and 
peace with God, under whose condemnation 
you feel you rest. Such a peace is promised 
in our text. The means by which it is to be 
obtained is Christ the Lord. He is the grace 
manifest to us, and Mediator between us and 
God. The condition on your part is faith in 
his name. Faith brings justification; and 
peace flows from justification like water from 



90 Cousin Eula; or, 

a spring. I have said faith was the foundation- 
stone of the Christian religion, and this you 
must have before you can be justified. It is 
said by some that faith is only mystified by an 
effort to explain it; but I do not think so. Let 
us see if we can explain and comprehend it: 
Faith is the gift of God, as " Every good gift 
and every perfect gift is from above, and Com- 
eth down from the Father of lights, with whom 
is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." 
Faith is the gift of God through the Son. He 
gives the ability to believe, and the evidence 
upon which our faith is grounded. Faith is 
an act, and that too our own act. It is an act 
of the mind and the heart: the mind assents 
to the truths of revelation ; upon which our 
faith is based, and the heart takes hold of 
those truths trustingly. Let us illustrate 
this statement from the Scriptures: "But 
without faith it is impossible to please him; 
for he that cometh to God must believe that 
he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that 
diligently seek him." In the first proposition 
in this quotation we have the assent of the 
mind — that is ; "God is," or exists. Many 
believe that Jesus is the Christ — that he is 
the Messiah; the devils believed and trembled 
— but all are not saved. To believe that God 



A Catholic Converted. 91 

and Christ are — that is, do exist — is orthodox 
faith, but not saving faith. Thus far you 
have no difficulty in going. You can truly say 
to all this, " I believe ; " but saving faith, or 
the faith that justifies, is taking hold of this 
orthodox faith with the heart, and holding on 
trustingly. Saving faith is illustrated in the 
second proposition of the quotation — that is, 
believing "that he is a rewarder of them 
that diligently seek him." Such a faith is 
Christian faith, because it applies Christ's 
merits and virtue to our own conscious need. 
The first is the same kind of faith we would 
have in any historical truth demonstrated 
beyond doubt; hence it might be termed an 
historical faith, such as sinful men and devils 
have. Saving faith may be again illustrated 
from the Scriptures: "That if thou shalt con- 
fess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus [this is 
the acknowledgment of the assent of the 
mind], and shalt believe in thine heart that 
God hath raised him from the dead, thou 
shalt be saved. For with the heart man 
believeth unto righteousness, and with the 
mouth confession is made unto salvation." 
Then it is in the heart we exercise a saving 
faith, and " out of the abundance of the heart 
the mouth speaketh." 



92 Cousin Eula; or, 

Just here let us consider the duty of re- 
pentance, after which we will again resume 
the main subject — Faith. Paul seems to have 
ignored repentance as a non-essential to salva- 
tion. Paul would not have us ignore it, but 
understand it. Eepentance, really and script- 
urally, is not a separate and distinct doctrine 
like faith, but is a classification of faith, insep- 
arably interwoven with faith, and a part 
of the same. Repentance is a part of 
faith, lying between the assent of the mind 
and the trusting of the heart. The person 
assenting to God's truths, suffering the 
same to take root in the heart, leads to 
a godly sorrow for sin, which is repent- 
ance. Moreover, repentance is the heart 
renouncing sin, being sick of sin, and on 
account of sin. Thus the heart is softened 
and prepared for trusting to else than itself. 
The assenting mind points the sick heart to 
Jesus, the Physician for the soul. Eepent- 
ance is like medicine: for a time it makes the 
patient sicker. So repentance breaks up the 
fallow-ground of the heart, preparing it for 
the higher order of faith, or the lodgment 
of truths heretofore assented to only by the 
mind. Faith, as a whole, leads through repent- 
ance; and repentance, considered abstractly, 



A Catholic Converted. 93 

is a continuation of faith, begun in assent to 
the trust of the heart. The assent may exist 
without the godly sorrow. The assent and 
godly sorrow may exist without the heart 
believing unto righteousness; for the "heart 
that is deceitful above all things " often rebels 
after it has been softened. Repentance, then, 
is inseparable from a complete faith, and com- 
prehended in it. This is why Paul appears to 
ignore it: it is only apparent; it is compre- 
hended in that one word — faith. And this is 
why we say, " Wherefore we are saved by faith 
only, is a wholesome doctrine, and very full of 
comfort." 

Now, to return to faith: How shall you 
exercise it to justification? is the question 
that mostly concerns you. Now, cousin, you 
are orthodox in your faith. You believe that 
God does exist; you believe that God was 
manifest in the flesh, in the person of his Son 
Jesus Christ; you believe all the historical facts 
of the New Testament in reference to the claims 
of Jesus; you believe the whole of the Apos- 
tles' Creed. You lack something yet, but that 
has been going on; the fallow-ground of your 
heart has been under cultivation for two 
years; these truths have been sinking down 
into your heart. It is true you are very 



94 Cousin Eula; or, 

unhappy now, and are drinking the bitter cup 
of repentance; but it will only make the 
sweet sweeter. Moreover, you have been 
seeking Christ and happiness for two years, 
but found them not — "the blind leading the 
blind" — but do not despair; there is yet hope. 
It is true that sadness of despair and despond- 
ency of spirit are yours. If you have dili- 
gently sought, why have you not found? Be- 
cause you did not believe " He will now reward 
me." Indeed, you are now despairing, and 
not looking for blessings of peace. 

Again, faith is a present matter; there is 
nothing future about it in the matter of sav- 
ing mercy. As to the time when you may be 
saved, it is always now. "Believe, and you 
shall be made whole." Again, "Without 
faith we cannot please Him." By faith we 
honor God; by disbelieving we dishonor God, 
and he is justly displeased with us. Let us 
illustrate this by the relation of parent and 
child. Suppose I have received from my 
father many tokens of his kindness. When I 
ask a favor of him, I ask believing I shall re- 
ceive it, if in his judgment he thinks it best. 
My faith is based upon a knowledge of my 
father, and his past manifestations of love to 
me. Having received ninety-nine favors from 



A Catholic Converted. 95 

him, and never been denied one without good 
reasons, I think I should dishonor my father 
if I were to ask the hundredth favor, and at the 
same time manifest a want of confidence. It 
seems he would be justified in being displeased 
with me. Just so it is between God and us. 
He has bestowed upon us out of his treasure- 
house bountiful blessings; he has created us, 
preserved us; indirectly he feeds and clothes 
us; he sends the rain and sunshine; he maketh 
the earth to yield us its fruits; he has given us 
dominion over the beast and cattle, the fishes 
and fowls. Then he has looked upon us in our 
sin and misery, and given us his Son, and the 
Son has given his life for us. And then he has 
bid us a ask, and we shall receive." Now T , to 
disbelieve God in this greatest blessing of all, 
is to dishonor God, and he is justly displeased 
with us. He is willing to forgive and bless us, 
but this once he demands of us faith. There- 
fore, you must believe or perish. In putting our 
trust in God, we are to walk by faith, and not 
by sight. Yet faith is not blind. Faith is 
based upon many infallible evidences. If no 
other evidence, God's manifest love to us in 
the gift of his Son, and the revelation of his 
will,, are sufficient, upon which you and I may 
safely base our faith. 



96 Cousin Eula; ok, 

Faith brings justification. So we will con- 
sider this subject next. Justification is an act 
in the mind of God. It is an act of forgive- 
ness — an act remitting the penalty due our 
sins. Let us illustrate : Suppose I am a con- 
demned criminal under the laws of the State. 
Petition is made to the Governor of the State 
for my reprieve. He grants the reprieve asked 
for. In doing so, he remits the penalty due my 
crime. He virtually forgives me. He lets me 
go a free citizen. I am not afraid of being 
apprehended; and if I should be, here is my 
reprieve, with the Governor's seal and signa- 
ture. Therefore, I am as free as any other 
citizen. But the crime is against me still, only 
the penalty is removed. I can never forget 
the crime; the scars of guilt are fixtures; yet 
underneath those scars my freedom is written, 
with a signature and seal that no citizen of my 
country can gainsay. Just so to-night your 
crime of sins is weighing you down. You 
can but petition Christ and believe. He will 
forgive, justify you, and then you will be 
happy. You can never forget your sins; the 
scars will be there; but underneath those scars 
will be written, with the blood of Jesus, sealed 
with his own signature by the hand of the 
Holy Ghost, "I freely all forgive." The pen- 



A Catholic Converted. 97 

alty remitted is justification. At the same 
time this act of justification takes place in the 
mind of God, the Holy Ghost makes an appli- 
cation of the blood of Jesus to your spirit, 
cleansing you from all sin. This is regenera- 
tion, or being born of the Holy Ghost. The 
condition upon your part is faith, and faith 
only. This new birth is sometimes termed 
conversion, from the words — vertere, to turn, and 
con, again, or right-about. So our spirits are 
changed from nature to grace, from darkness 
to light, from sin to righteousness. We are 
made new creatures. The old Adam is buried 
or cast out — that is, our evil nature; the new 
man, Christ Jesus, is raised up in us to new- 
ness of life. Hence we begin a new life, a 
spiritual life. That there are mysteries in the 
new birth that we do not understand I do not 
deny; for it is one of the greatest miracles 
ever performed — a miracle calling forth the 
divine power of the combined Godhead. It is 
a miracle in which all other miracles con- 
summate. The new birth is the first grand feat 
of victory to us in the remedial plan of salva- 
tion. Unless this miracle is wrought in us 
through the office of the Holy Ghost, real 
happiness is a stranger, and heaven a myth. 
Its mysteries being incomprehensible to the 
7 



98 Cousin Eula; or, 

finite mind does not make it the less desirable 
or important. We know bat little of God and 
his modes of operation in the material or spirit- 
ual world, except as he reveals them to us; but 
this much we may know and fully comprehend 
— and we ought not to be satisfied with less — 
that is, that the new birth has been wrought in 
us. The blind man did not comprehend how 
Jesus restored him to sight, but this much he 
could confidently declare, "that whereas I was 
blind, now I see." This much we may realize, 
" The things I once hated I now love, and the 
things I once loved I now hate." And that 
his " Spirit beareth witness with my spirit that 
I am a child of God." To be a child of God 
is sufficient for me at present. But we cannot 
expect even a child of God to know all myste- 
ries; but with Paul we can say, "Now I know 
in part, but then shall I know even as also I 
am known" — "then," that is, when we get to 
heaven. I am willing to let these mysteries 
remain hid until I " see the Lord face to face." 
But farther, cousin, we are not saved with- 
out grace. So we will now consider the re- 
lation of grace to the plan of salvation. We 
read, "By grace are ye saved through faith." 
Grace is divine favor. God's grace is manifest 
to us in the gift of his Son to die for us. The 



A Catholic Conyekted. 99 

grace .of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, is 
manifest to us in the office of the Son and Holy 
Ghost. It is farther manifest in the revelation 
of his will — the institution of the Church, and 
the calling of men to preach the gospel. Thus 
by grace, as a means through faith as a con- 
dition, you are to be saved. This last script- 
ure is in harmony with Bom v. 1: "Being 
justified by faith, we have peace with God." 
How? " Through our Lord Jesus Christ." 
Here Christ is the efficient means — the grace 
is in Christ. Never can you or any one else be 
saved out of Christ. Hence I say you are 
saved by grace, through faith. Grace — Christ 
is the grace, or efficient means, manifest unto 
us in many ways. The faith must exist in you. 
The next point for consideration is, What 
you are to be saved from. You are to be saved 
from sin, and the penalty of sin. What is sin? 
We answer, That which is offensive in the sight 
of God is sin. Whatever is contrary to his will 
is sin. Now I must say that you, and every 
one else who knows better, and who prays to 
the Virgin Mary, or any other saint, or con- 
fesses to the priest, or are guilty of other prac- 
tices of the Church of Borne, are guilty of sin. 
In other words, no one can — except ignorantly 
■ — practice the teachings of the Roman Catholic 



100 Cousin Eula; or, 

Church without being guilty of idolatry, which 
is sin. 

E. Cousin, if I could only exercise saving 
faith, I would give up eve^y thing; but I am 
miserable, and there is no hope for me. 

B. Cousin, I knew you were miserable be- 
fore you told me, and yet there is hope for 
you. There has been a lamp burning in your 
room all night, which, with your unnatural ap- 
pearance, told me the sad story of the misery 
of your soul. 

E. Tell me, how did you learn about the 
burning lamp ? 

B. The first night after I came I heard you 
say to your mother, " I am so nervous I can- 
not sleep without a light burning in my room." 
Every night, upon waking, or early in the morn- 
ing, I discovered the light shining through the 
top of the door that separates our rooms. It 
has not disturbed me, except it has told me 
the unhappy state of your mind. You are not 
afraid of any one breaking into your house. 
Your doors and windows are well secured. 
Usually your husband is with you as your pro- 
tector. You are only afraid of the dark. You 
know not why it is so. It was not thus with 
you in your innocent childhood. The reason 
is plain to me. For two years you have been 



A Catholic Converted. 101 

sorrowful on account of sin. At length, you 
committed the keeping of your soul to the 
Church of Rome, but only to add fuel to the 
fire of your misery. Hence you have fallen 
into this injurious habit of burning a lamp at 
night, both damaging to the body and mind. 
The imperfections escaping from the burning 
oil confined in your close room has damaged 
your health; especially are your nerves shat- 
tered, which are closely connected with the 
brain. The light has prevented sound sleep, 
hence the mind does not get its needed rest. 
Instead of finding upon waking in the morn- 
ing your mind and body refreshed, you awake 
to find yourself weary. And, really, under 
these circumstances, life itself has been a bur- 
den to you. And yet I say there is hope. You 
can be a happy woman yet if you will cast all 
your care on Jesus, "who careth for you." 
Now, let me make a suggestion: We have but- 
half the night to sleep; you need sleep much; 
suppose you extinguish your lamp to-night, 
and take refreshing sleep. 

E. Why, cousin, I could not sleep a wink if 
I were to extinguish my lamp. 

B. But, Cousin Eula, I am proposing for 
you to enter upon a new era of life. You are 
burning that lamp as company — even putting 



102 Cousin Eula; or, 

your trust in it — making it your guardian 
angel; but I am now proposing for you to 
trust Christ, and be happy. As little and in- 
significant a thing as that lamp is, just as long 
as you trust in it, it shows a^want of confidence 
in God. " Our God is a jealous God." He will 
not allow any thing, however small or great, to 
come between us and himself. Again let me 
ask you to try it to-night, and I hope to see 
you happy in the morning. 

E. Well, cousin, I will try it this one night. 

B. Very well. May God bless you in the 
act of trying to trust him! Good-night. 

E. Thank you. Good-night. 



A Catholic Converted. 103 



CHAPTER VI. 

Catholics alarmed — Wilderness state — Prodigal returning 
— Works — Tears — Eula confesses the truth. 

It was Monday evening, April 1, 1880. After 
tea I was writing, when cousin came into my 
room. I said, " Cousin, can I have a conver- 
sation with you at this time? " 

Eula. I am more than willing; you have in- 
terested me much, and I will be glad still to 
hear you converse. 

Bute. Yery well; let me read to you what I 
have been wTiting to-day. I have begun to 
write a little book, and you are to be the cen- 
tral figure of it. I know you are miserable 
now, but before it is finished my faith is you 
will be a happy woman among women. 

E. That cannot be; there is no chance for 
me to be happy; but I want you to read to me 
what you have written. 

"Whereupon I read the first chapter of this 
little book, upon which she commented thus: 
"That is really beautiful, but not for me." 

B. It is for you; doubt not; you shall yet be 
happy. Tell me, did you sleep well last night? 
and were you refreshed this morning? 



104 Cousin Eula; or, 

E. I did not sleep at all. 

B. I am sorry, then, I insisted on your blow- 
ing out the lamp. I really felt all I said, that 
it was an evidence of distrust in Christ, and 
I was hopeful of the effects if you would only 
give it up; may be I was mistaken. You need 
sleep very much; it would have been better for 
you to have partial sleep than none at all. 

E. But, cousin, I must admit the truth — I 
never blew the light out last night. I thought 
I would, but when I went to my room my 
courage failed me. I am ashamed to confess 
it, but it is true. 

B. Then I w r as deceived, for I did not see it 
shining as before, and hoped to see you brighter 
to-day. 

E. I removed the lamp to another place in 
the room, but it burned all night. 

B. Will you be so kind as to tell me what is 
going on among the Catholics? 

E. Yesterday afternoon there was an old 
negro here, and she told mother she heard the 
priest say he was afraid she would try to per- 
suade her daughter back into the world. 

B. And what did aunt reply? 

E. She said, "I want my children to be 
Christians, but not Catholics." 



A Catholic Converted. 105 

B. What else? 

E. Sister Lazarus sent me word to-day to 
come to the convent, she wanted to see me very- 
much. 

B. Any thing more? 

E. The priest wrote me a note to go to con- 
fession to-night. I suppose I should have 
gone had you not asked for a conversation 
with me. 

B. Well, cousin, I hope you are done with 
priest and priestly confessions, except to Jesus, 
our High-priest, who alone can help you. Do 
not the Catholics regard your mother's visit 
and mine as being a concerted plan to influ- 
ence you to return to the Methodist Church ? 

E. They certainly do; such appears to be the 
case to them. But I know that neither of you 
knew I was a Catholic. 

B. Such a version of our visit is natural; but 
if it was pre-arranged, God did it for us. 

E. Cousin, I feel that God sent you here, 
and I am glad I did not get off to confession 
to-night. 

B. Cousin Eula, what is the state of your 
mind to-night ? 

E. I am lost; I am miserable; I cannot shed 
a tear. There is no hope for me. 

B. There is yet hope for you. That you are 



106 Cousin Eula; or, 

miserable, I do not doubt; that you are lost, 
I know. You must be miserable before you 
can be happy, and be lost before you can be 
found. If one be lost in a dark wilderness, 
and unconscious of his lost state, he is in 
danger of remaining lost. If he hears a voice 
he will not hearken, or if he sees a light he will 
not follow it, because he is not conscious of his 
danger. But when one is lost, and he knows 
it, he will gladly hearken to a voice or pursue 
a light; and if none appears, he himself will 
cry out, and give the alarm. Now you fully 
realize a consciousness of your lost condition; 
moreover, you are asking for help. Therefore 
I say, with confidential hope, there is hope for 
you. Tou need now to be convinced of God's 
love, that you may love him in return. 

E. But I have sinned against light. 

B. So you may have refused the true Light, 
and preferred a false light, but still the true 
Light is in the meridian, heavens, and that too 
for you. It is declared of Christ in prophecy, 
"But unto you that fear my name shall the 
Sun of righteousness arise with healing in 
his wings." He declares of himself, "I am 
the true Light" — a light to shine in darkness, 
though the darkness may not always compre- 
hend the light. You feel now you are groping 



A Catholic Converted. 107 

in the darkness of despair. Now it is in this 
darkness that Christ, the true Light, shines. 
That the darkness itself may become light, you 
have but to open the eye of faith, which is the 
true eye of the soul. Follow the Light, and 
he will lead you out of this dark wilderness of 
despair. Christ has anticipated your condi- 
tion, and given us a beautiful parable, so ap- 
propriate just now. You remember how the 
son wandered away from his loving old father, 
just as you have wandered from the simplic- 
ity of faith in Christ only. And he spent his 
all, just as you have wasted your early knowl- 
edge of Christ. And how the son came to a 
knowledge of his lost condition, just as you 
now are. And how he resolved to go back to 
his father's house, just as you now are doing. 
And, best of all, how the father left the mansion 
and ran a great way off to meet him, and how 
he threw his arm around his neck, kissed and 
caressed him, and said ; " This my son was dead, 
and is alive again; he was lost, and is found." 
And that this is in place just now: Remember 
God the Father sent his Son, and his Son gave 
up his heavenly mansion and throne, and came 
to this dark world. For what? To illuminate 
it, that you and I might see the Morning Star, 
the glorious Sun of righteousness with his 



108 Cousin Eula; or, 

beaming light, so joyful to the eye of faith. 
Now, that this advent was for you, remember 
he declares his mission is to seek and save 
that which is lost, to restore sight to the blind, 
to make the lame to walk, to cleanse the leper, 
to heal the sick. That you are sick of sin is 
clear. Christ declares, "I am the Physician," 
and "God is love." 

E. But, cousin, I have done every thing I 
know to do, and there is no hope. 

B. I admit what you say about your doing; 
your doing truly availeth nothing, and yet 
there is hope. You have been fasting to-day, 
have you not? 

E. Yes, I have eaten nothing. 

B. You should have eaten something. 

E. I tried to drink a little coffee, but could 
not do so; there is no room, I am too full of 
sorrow. 

B. You say you have done all you know to 
do. Salvation does not come by doing, but in 
trusting Christ. "It is not of works, lest any 
man should boast." It is true that good works 
are the fruits of faith, and are pleasing and 
acceptable to God in Christ, yet they are not 
meritorious, and cannot "put away our sins." 
A person with a well-founded faith will be full 
of good works for Christ. But that " we are 



A Catholic Converted. 109 

justified by faith only is a wholesome doctrine, 
and very full of comfort." Cousin, you feel 
you have done every thing you can, but, after 
all, it has availed nothing. Try one more 
remedy: Give your heart to God, and you will 
be converted. 

E. But, cousin, I cannot shed a tear; and 
here you are crying, full of tears of sympathy, 
of joy. You are happy, hopeful, find relief in 
your tears; but I am miserable, and my eyes 
are dry. 

B. I understand that. You have relied on 
priestly absolution; you have, in following the 
mandates of your Church, worshiped idols. 
In this way you have dishonored God. Your 
religion of torture — merit in fasting, penance, 
and confession — has disunited your soul more 
and more from God, from whence it came in 
its original purity. Really, your soul is para- 
lyzed; it has ceased to breathe pure, heavenly 
atmosphere; its eye of faith is closed; its 
fountain of godly love has ceased to flow. The 
doors and windows of your soul have been 
closed up heretofore, no one to help you unbolt 
the door. You feel it would be good, and in 
some degree relief, to shed tears; and so it 
would. Tears are the evidence of hopefulness 
or joy; they indicate a softening heart, and 



110 Cousin Eula; or, 

yours is softening now. [Silent sympathy.] 
You desire tears. All truly good and great 
people weep. Jeremiah was the weeping 
prophet. Christ looked gut over Jerusalem, 
and doubtless dropped a silent tear as he uttered 
his lamentation for the doomed city. As he 
stood at the grave of Lazarus he wept. John, 
out on the Isle of Patmos, beheld God's book 
in his open hand, and he wept much because 
no one was found able to open the book, and 
unloose the seals thereof. Nor did he cease 
weeping until the angel informed him that 
"the Lion of the tribe of Juda " had prevailed 
to open the book. Noble man! He was weep- 
ing for God's revealed truth; he was weeping 
for the world's Redeemer. Now you desire 
tears that you may know this Redeemer. Such 
tears are always manly, womanly, Christlike. 
Indeed, such tears are the waters from heaven; 
the gentle morning dew that maketh the heart 
glad for joy. I know your tears are few now. 
I believe the day is coming when you can shed 
tears. I hope it is near at hand. It will be 
when you have been converted to Christ; when 
you have been born of the Holy Ghost; when 
you have been washed in the laver of regenera- 
tion ; when Christ shall breathe upon your soul, 
and it shall revive and live again. Yes, cousin, 



A Catholic Converted. Ill 

in that hour the fountain of the great deep of 
your soul will be broken up, and then you will 
look up by faith into Christ's smiling face and 
shed tears of joy, just as you used to look 
into the loving face of your parents in the 
simplicity of childhood. Tou were happy 
then. When you become a child of God you 
will be happy again. And now the ques- 
tion of continued misery or future happi- 
ness is with you. Will you renounce all for 
Christ? 

E. I feel I shall have to give up the Catholic 
Church, or I shall never find Christ, 

B. Yery well; if you are conscious that it is 
a sin to hold on, surely it cannot be a tempta- 
tion for a moment. You have scrupulously 
followed the teachings of the Church of Rome 
for two or three months, and you have found 
no comfort. Are you not convinced that prayer 
to any other person outside the Godhead is 
offensive to God? that saying mass and con- 
fession to the priest is mockery? that absolu- 
tion from the priest is hypocritical mockery? 
that the whole question is nothing short of 
idolatry? 

E. Cousin, it is right I should confess the 
truth; I am convinced. 

B. Then will you not give up the Roman 



112 Cousin Eula; or, 

Catholic Church, and renounce its false teach- 
ings, that you may win Christ ? 

E. I do not know what to say: if I were to 
give up the Catholic Church, there is no Meth- 
odist Church here for me to join. 

B. That question of your future Church re- 
lationship is immaterial just now. We hope 
this city will not continue to be without a 
Methodist Church; but even if it should, you 
had better be in no Church than one that mocks 
God. The Church is not essential to salvation, 
it is only a means of grace; and when we can 
do so, it is proper to come within its pales. 
The essential point is to be born of the Holy 
Ghost; to come thus into Christ's kingdom, 
or invisible Church, and then to keep the com- 
mandments. 

E. Suppose I renounce it all, and give up 
the Catholic Church, and then not be con- 
verted? 

B. You now submit a question to be delicate- 
ly answered; because you have tried so long to 
find happiness, you are now treading cautiously. 
Well, I shall not object; but to your question. 
Your question shows doubtfulness, a want of 
faith in God. Two duties never conflict; one 
precedes the other. Your first duty is to obey 
God's will, so far as that will is revealed to 



A Catholic Converted. 113 

you. You say you are convinced you must 
renounce the Catholic Church, or you cannot 
receive Christ. Then you must obey the voice 
of duty thus far, and trust God that he will 
reward you in keeping his will as revealed. 
Those who w T alk closest with God are those 
who ask but one question, " What is God's will? 
— what wilt thou have me to do?" then they 
do it. A question of doubt as to God's faith- 
fulness is not our right. One duty discharged 
brings up the next, and Christian life has a 
sweetness in every duty discharged; but duty 
neglected brings bitterness — leads to darkness. 
Duties neglected make entanglements of duties, 
into which sweetness cannot enter. Again, 
your question is offering condition to Christ. 
Christ never accepts of any compromise what- 
ever. He demands the whole heart, your im- 
plicit faith based upon his word of promise. 
He has an absolute right to all, and will not 
accept of any thing less than an unconditional 
surrender. No person was ever yet converted 
on his own terms, however small the favor dic- 
tated. God will not be dictated to. In this 
matter you are to go farther than you can see. 
You are to walk by faith, and not by sight. 
You have his promises on your part to sustain 
you in the belief that he will bless you in re- 
8 



114 Cousin Eula; or, 

nouncing all for Christ. He bids yon if heavy- 
laden to come, assures you his yoke is easy, 
his burden light. He declares his ways are 
pleasant, and his paths peace. He bids you 
ask, and you shall receive. Only believe; to 
doubt is sin. If you want the evidence of 
experience to insure your belief, the blind 
man declares, " Whereas I was blind, now I 
see." All he was concerned about was seeing. 
Then we have the experience of Paul. He 
belonged to a Church, he was one of the strict- 
est of the Pharisees. His Church was a proud, 
boastful Church; they claimed to be the true 
Church, and excluded the claims of all others. 
They thought there was merit in making long 
prayers, and giving alms. And Paul, being a 
zealous member, thought he ought to put oth- 
ers to the sword who did not believe his way. 
But God opened his eyes, and showed him a 
better way. He followed in it; the scales fell 
from his eyes; the light of heaven burst in 
upon his soul; he had joy in Christ. He was 
no longer the proud Pharisee, but the humble 
Christian. He was no longer the bigoted Saul, 
but was ever afterward the humble Paul. He 
ceased to preach Saul and the Church, and 
began to preach Christ and the gospel. Yes, 
it was Paul, out of a genuine Christian experi- 



A Catholic Converted. 115 

ence and a correct faith, declaring " Christ is 
all, and in all." It is Paul, out of his rich ex- 
perience, that has given us that heavenly as- 
surance contained in the eighth chapter of Ro- 
mans. It is this same Spirit of Christ, this 
Spirit of adoption into God's family, you need 
to free you from the spirit of bondage and 
fear. But you can never have it except Christ 
give it you. Yet I assure you he is ever will- 
ing. But you must ground your arms of re- 
bellion, and make a complete surrender to him. 
He will not accept of any terms on your part 
whatever. 

E. Cousin Buie, God sent you to me. 

B. Then, if you believe that, take my advice 
this one time. As you are convinced, and feel 
you must give up the Catholic Church, with all 
its pernicious teachings, before you can be con- 
verted to God, do so at once. 

E. I will decide that question to-night, and 
let you know in the morning. 

B. Cousin, now is the day of salvation. De- 
lay is dangerous. 

E. I suppose now is the time. 

B. So the Scriptures teach 

E. But, cousin, there are mountains of diffi- 
culties in the way. 

B. What can they be? 



116 Cousin Eula; or, 

E. To do so would be to break a solemn 
vow. 

B. That is nothing; I should not hesitate a 
moment. 

E. You do not say so,' cousin ? 

B. I most assuredly do. What is a vow to 
believe whatever the Church of Home may see 
proper to teach you? A vow to make prayers 
to the saints; to confess to the priest; and 
never to break off the shackles of Eoman slav- 
ery ! a vow binding conscience and freedom of 
soul! a vow contrary to God's will! Break it I 
would, and feel I was doing God's will! 

E. But I made that vow to God, and not to 
man. I was kneeling, my hand on the Bible, 

B. Cousin Eula, do you believe it to be God's 
will to obey and follow the teachings that vow 
binds upon you ? 

E. I do not. 

B. Do you believe that God accepted of, and 
was pleased with, that vow of yours ? 

E. I do not. 

B. That ought to settle the question. If 
God did not accept of it, and was not pleased 
with it, then he will be pleased with you to 
break it; and not to break it is sin. To con- 
tinue to do wrong does not make the first wrong 
right. Your vow, however honest you were in 



A Catholic Converted. 117 

making it, and to whomsoever yon made it, if 
contrary to God's will, mnst be broken before 
you set yourself right with God on that point. 

E. Well, cousin, I will fully decide to-night 
whether I will give up the Catholic Church or 
not. 

B. Very well, cousin. I am sad, however, to 
see you so near the kingdom of God, and yet 
you decline to enter in. Be sure you decide 
it aright, and remember there is but one true 
standard of right, God's will. Let us assemble 
for family prayers. 

That night earnest prayer was offered for 
the conversion of Cousin Eula. God seemed 
near by to hear every petition, or faith trans- 
ported us to God. Heaven seemed to stoop to 
kiss earth, and give the seal of adoption. 



118 Cousin Eula; or, 



CHAPTER VII. 

Decision and renunciation — Last agony — "But I swore" — 
Imprecations — Death is not a synonym for this — Eula is 
converted. 

The morning of April 2, 1878, was bright and 
sunny. Vegetables and flowers abounded in 
the far-away Southland. The thoughts of the 
writer had traveled far up the picturesque 
Saint John's Biver, and imagination had paint- 
ed pictures of beauty on the banks of the river 
of lakes. But, what was to be more gratify- 
ing, our pleasure of travel was also in the line 
of duty toward Him who said, "Follow me." 
But God's thoughts are not as our thoughts, 
nor are his ways like our ways. There is a 
general providence over all mankind. The 
sun, with its light and heat; the rain, with its 
softening touch, falls alike on the just and the 
unjust. Yet there is a special providence over 
all those who pray believing. " Take not thy 
Holy Spirit from me." Choose for me all my 
changes. " Give us this day our daily bread. 
. . . And lead us not into temptation, but de- 
liver us from evil; for thine is the kingdom, 
and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen." 



A Catholic Converted. 119 

It was this special providence to which allusion 
has been made before — in my being detained 
on my course for want of means. The night 
before I had gone for mail, and received none. 
As I had made efforts to receive funds by mail, 
and failed, I could now say to my sorrowing 
cousin, Another question is settled; I will not 
go to the District Conference. I shall ever 
look upon the disappointment as a providence 
indicating that it was my duty to remain longer 
in Saint Augustine. That morning early I had 
an interview with Mr. Uzenia. He said his 
wife spoke to him the night before about 
leaving the Catholic Church; but as she had 
joined, he preferred her to remain faithful. He 
had been away from home most of the time of 
late on business ; he did not know the state of his 
wife's mind, nor did he know what Catholicism 
was. When I informed him of the condition 
of her mind and heart, he assured me that if 
her heart was not in the Catholic Church she 
was at perfect liberty to leave it, and he would 
let her know the same on his return in the 
afternoon. 

Eula was a good and true wife, and usually 
a very prudent and consistent woman. I did 
not know her reason for postponing her decis- 
ion the night before, but it was mainly to have 



120 Ootjsin Eula; or, 

the approval of her husband to the change her 
heart was inditing. If he had only known her 
heart and mind on that subject as I knew it, 
his reply would have been different. 

Buie. Cousin Eula, may 'I have the pleasure 
of a conversation with you this morning? 

Eula. Cousin Buie, I am anxious to converse 
with you without delay. 

B. Cousin, you are not so near Christ this 
morning as you were last night, and yet there 
is hope. 

E, It is true I am not so near to Christ. 

B. How did you pass the night? 

E. Wretchedly. 

jR. Well, you were to decide the question 
of questions, the renouncing of the Roman 
Catholic Church. And so you did decide, but 
it was not according to God's will; therefore 
your decision would not stand. 

E. Cousin, you seem to know every thing. 
I did decide, and my decision would not stand. 
During the night I decided to hold on to the 
Catholic Church, but I was more miserable 
afterward than ever. Then this morning, when 
I heard you come into the parlor, I came to 
the door, and put my hand upon the door-knob. 
O that I had only come in then and told you 
all! I should now have been perfectly happy. 



A Catholic Converted. 121 

B. It is not too late. I know why you de- 
cided not to quit the Catholic Church. Last 
night, after prayers and retiring, you consulted 
your husband. He, not knowing the state of 
your mind and heart, told you he would prefer 
you to remain a faithful member of the Church 
you had joined. This morning I had a con- 
versation with him, in which I told him all. 
He now says do as you wish, and he will tell 
you so this afternoon when he returns from 
business. His heart is in sympathy with you. 
He shed tears freely. He says he ought to be 
a better man, and intends to be. 

E. I am so thankful. Tou cannot tell how 
much I dreaded the displeasure of my hus- 
band. I feel so much relieved. 

B. I have also had a conversation with your 
brother. He wants to see you free and happy, 
and intends himself to lead a new life, follow- 
ing the commandments of God. 

E. Cousin, it is all good news to me. While 
I have been in great distress on account of my 
own sins, I have also prayed for my brother. 
Now one point is decided : I renounce the Cath- 
olic Church with its pernicious teachings; that 
much is settled. 

Dear reader, you rejoice with Eula that her 
bands are broken. But not yet; I am to record 



122 Cousin Eula; or, 

the last} agony. Yet I cannot. I can record 
words, but sorrow, agony of spirit, quivering 
of lips, and fluttering of soul, I cannot record. 
Heaven only will contain the record. 

B. Cousin, what now hinclers you from re- 
ceiving Christ, and being happy? 

E. There is no chance. 

B. Why not? What have you done that 
Christ's blood cannot wipe out? 

E. I was honest in joining the Catholic 
Church; but I ought to have known better. I 
am inexcusable. 

B. Admit what you say. It is only a neg- 
lected duty in not knowing what you should 
have known. Christ can cleanse you from all 
sin, though it be willful sin. [Deep silence 
and emotion.] Do you know what keeps you 
from Christ? 

E. I do. 

B. Will you tell me, or give up the hinder- 
ing cause? [Silence and agitation.] 

E. Cousin, you know to lay a part of my 
idols on the altar, and not all, avails me noth- 
ing. 

B. True. But what can yet be behind? 

E. Much. 

B. Will you tell me? 

E. I cannot. 



A Catholic Conveeted. 123 

B. Why not? 

E. It is impossible. 

B. Whatever that much may be, what is 
God's will in the matter? 

E. To do so. 

B. To do what? 

E. To tell all. 

B. Are you sure of God's will? 

E. I am. 

B. Then please God, and not man. [Silence.] 

E. I know my duty, but do it not. 

B. Is it essential to salvation? 

E. It is. I feel the moment I reveal all, I 
shall receive Christ. 

B. Then follow the impressions of the Spirit: 
to God you stand or fall. [Silence and agita- 
tion.] 

E. But I swore. [Silence and quivering of 
lips.] 

B. Is it possible you took an oath in joining 
the Catholic Church ? [A pause and agitation.] 

E. There is no joining the Catholic Church 
without an oath. 

B. Well, Cousin Eula, if it was a duty to 
God, I would as soon break the oath as a vow. 

E. Cousin, would you break an oath ? 

B. If I knew it was God's will I v/ould. Are 
you sure of God's will? 



124 Cousin Eula; ok, 

E. I am. I know I ought to reveal all. 

B. Yery well. God's will is the only true 
standard of right and wrong. If it is right in 
God's sight to break your oath, it cannot be 
sin. 

E. But, cousin, I did not swear to man, but 
to God. 

B. Then, cousin, let me ask, do you think 
that oath was well-pleasing and acceptable to 
God? 

E. I do not. 

B. If it was not well-pleasing and acceptable 
to God, was it not offensive to him ? 

E. It certainly was. 

B. Cousin, your oath not having been ac- 
ceptable to God, but offensive toward him, be- 
sides your clear impression of duty to break 
it or to tell all which it binds, it is also clear to 
my mind that your sin is in taking and keeping 
the oath, and not in breaking it. An oath, to 
be binding, must be administered according to 
authority. The oath in question is illegal in 
every respect. It is unauthorized by civil law ; 
therein breaking it, you are not violating any 
civil law, or accountable to any civil tribunal. 
It is illegal in reference to God's law. His 
word is the only rule, and sufficient rule, both 
of our faith and practice. Nowhere in his 



A Catholic Converted. 125 

word has he authorized those who keep the 
door of the Church to receive any one into his 
Church on oath. Therefore such an oath as 
the one in question is unauthorized by God. 
And administrators of such oaths are anti- 
christ — setting aside Christ's teachings, and 
setting up their own. In calling his disciples, 
he required them to leave their secularity, and 
follow him. Nowhere do we read of Christ 
taking them in by oath, or authorizing any one 
else to do so. Take Peter, for instance. After 
he had thrice denied Christ, Christ only thrice 
required him to declare his love. The denial 
was the sin; it was a denial by oath. The re- 
ceiving back to Christ was a vow, or public pro- 
fession of what Christ already knew. " Thou 
knowest that I love thee." Evidently Christ 
has intended his Church to be cemented to- 
gether by love, and not held together by bind- 
ing oaths. I do not know the nature of the 
oath you have taken, but I am sure, from 
what has come to light, that it enslaves the 
rnind and soul — the worst kind of slavery the 
world has ever known. Mental and religous 
freedom are the highest types of freedom 
^warded to the hiiman family. Such freedom 
God has given to you and me, and we can no 
more part with them without displeasing God 



12G Cousin Eula; or, 

than Judas did to sell Christ for thirty pieces 
of silver. Indeed, the jjurchase of religious 
freedom— securing to you and me the right to 
approach God in person, repent, believe, and 
receive forgiveness of sins— cost Jesus, our 
Saviour, the shedding of his blood. Any sys- 
tem that sets aside the purchase of Christ's 
blood puts Christ to an open shame. True re- 
pentance will lead you to a renunciation of all 
these things, even the oath that makes you a 
slave — the worst of slaves — and Christ a mere 
man, without power or saving merit. 

E. If I break the oath, then? [A pause.] 

B. Then what? [A pause.] 

E. O my soul! [A pause.] 

B. You say the moment you break the oath, 
or rather tell all, you will be converted, for- 
given, blessed, peace following. If God re- 
quires of you a renunciation of this false oath 
that "he may be pleased with you, whom have 
you to fear? 

E. But O that which followed! O me! [Ag- 
ony.] 

B. Cousin, is it possible that imprecations 
followed the oath you took ? [Silence, quiver- 
ing of her lips, paleness.] 

E. Cousin, you seem to know all that I know. 
[Pause.] What you fear is too true. 



A Catholic Converted. 127 

B..1 suppose yon likely invited the curses 
of God upon yon, and the punishment of the 
Catholic Church, in case you should do this 
thing. 

E. Too true. O! O! This is awful! awful! 
[Wildness.] 

Her he-ad is now reclining upon the back of 
the chair, with the paleness of death. I was 
engaged in secret communion with God, and 
watching the evil spirit tearing her very heart- 
strings as he takes his final leave. Not yet. 
Satan never leaves a remedy untried to hold on 
to his servants. I have witnessed the last ag- 
ony of many as God has gathered them as 
brands from the eternal burning, but my eyes 
never beheld the like before. Now she is re- 
covering, but all is not over yet. 

B. Tell me, how are you feeling? 

E. Awful. Those imprecations! O the sin 
of that hour! 

B. As to those imprecations, thanks be to 
God, America is a land of religious freedom. 
The civil law guarantees to you the right of 
religious thought, and the privilege of worship- 
ing God according to your own conscience, and 
insures your protection in the same. They 
dare not administer those imprecations unless 
they do it in secret. If you should lose your 



128 Cousin Eula; or, 

life in the discharge of duty to Christ, the 
promise would be yours, "Whosoever loseth 
his life for my sake shall find it." It would 
be noble to die thus. Not only that, but you 
would die both a martyr and patriot — a 
patriot, because this oath is directly in vio- 
lation of the Constitution of the United States, 
which secures to us mental and religious free- 
dom — a martyr for the truth. Thus you 
would die for thousands that might be kept 
through you from being ensnared, enslaved 
as you have been. As to imprecating God's 
curses, it is like any other sinner swearing, and 
asking God to damn him under certain circum- 
stances. Such a petition God will answer by 
and by, unless the person repent, believe, and 
is converted. Tou should repent that you 
ever invoked such a wicked thing of God. 

E. But after all this, do you think I can be 
happy? 

B. Certainly you can. Happiness is not to 
be sought after; it follows certain other things 
as a consequence. Duty discharged brings 
happiness. For instance, if you repent, be- 
lieve, and are converted, being thus united to 
Christ, happiness ensues, and nothing can hin- 
der. That you have sinned, I do not deny, and 
so you feel; but if Christ only forgives you, 



A Catholic Converted. 129 

and cleanses you from all sin, then yon shall 
be free indeed. Christ insures you in his word 
of promise, and by the wooings of the Holy 
Spirit, that he is ever willing to forgive and 
bless. The question is, Are you willing? 

E. I want to be. 

B. What hinders you now from embracing 
Christ? 

E. Only that one thing — making the revela- 
tion. 

B. Are you still clear as to your duty? 

E. I am, and ever have been. 

B. Then will you not make the revelation? 
[Long silence.] 

E. I am resolved. 

B. Then fear God only, and do your duty. 

E. Cousin Buie, give me one hour to myself, 
and I will return and tell you all. 

B. Cousin Eula, I have no authority to ex- 
act of you to tell me what that secret oath in- 
cludes, and I would not have asked, but you have 
persisted in regarding it as your duty to God; 
and now that you are resolved to do that duty, 
I must say delay is dangerous. I fear your 
purpose to delay one hour is a temptation. 
Last night, when we finished conversation, you 
were longing after Christ. We were conscious 
you were near the kingdom of God. You pre- 
9 



130 Cousin Eula; or, 

ferred to settle those questions alone. You did 
settle them, as you thought, and settled them 
again and again, and yet you are miserable 
still. One hour will bring us to the dining- 
hour. I must say it is hazardous to delay. 
[A pause.] 

E. Cousin, do you know any thing about 
Masonry? 

B. I do. 

E. If you were to dissolve your relationship 
with the Masons, or be expelled — which I do 
not suppose will ever be — you would not tell 
their secrets, would you? 

B. I would not. 

E. They tell me this is just like Masonry. 

B. Cousin, while Masonry is the handmaid 
of religion, it is not religion, nor does it pro- 
pose to be. It is a moral institution of human 
origin, friendly to religion — neither abets nor 
antagonizes any of the Churches. Nor has any 
Church a right to take advantage of this order 
to c&rry out their purposes. No true Mason 
will, at least. I see the point you bring out. 
Masonry is an institution that has withstood 
ages. In itself it is doing much good. Im- 
itations of this institution, or its advantages 
applied to any other institution, do harm. Now 
the impression made on my mind is that you 



A Catholic Converted. 131 

are instructed by the priest, or others, to 
regard at all hazards the secrets of the 
Eoman Catholic Church. Yes, they do not in- 
tend their gain shall be lost, or this iron chain 
broken. It is not the soothsayers they are 
concerned about, but the gain the soothsayers 
bring. The institutions are very different. 
The one is human, the other is claimed to be 
divine. Masonry being an ancient human in- 
stitution, I see the Eoman Catholic Church, 
though claiming to be divine, seeks to build 
upon the human. Christ intends his Church 
to be cemented together by love, and love only. 
The point they make out of Masonry is to seek 
thereby to keep their secrets. Yet, perhaps, 
the Eoman Catholic Church is less friend- 
ly toward Masonry than any other Church. 
But as to your oath, and its similarity with 
our obligations as a Mason. I assure you, 
cousin, there is nothing in my obligation that 
interferes with my duty to myself, my God, or 
my family. I have no personal right to bring 
any thing between God and myself by obliga- 
tion, vow, oath, or otherwise. And not only 
so, but should I, I not only would have all right 
civilly and divinely to break such an obliga- 
tion, but it would be my duty to do the same. 
Now your oath does interfere with your duty 



132 Cousin Eula; or, 

to God, for you are conscious you cannot 
receive forgiveness of sins and peace with 
God until you tell all. What I most desire 
above all things now is the salvation of your 
soul. Tell me, how much do you prize your 
soul? 

E. Above every thing. 

B. Then whatever is in the way of your ob- 
taining salvation give it up, no matter if it be a 
right-eye or a right-arm. 

E. It seems as if two voices were speaking 
to my spirit. One I believe to be the voice of 
God, calling me to duty; the other, the voice 
of temptation, saying, Tou better not. O how 
awful are the struggles of this hour! It is 
really awful! [Agony of soul.] 

B. You have my heart -felt sympathy. I 
know Satan will not give you up willingly. 
Were one prepared, perhaps, it would be easier 
to die. 

E. Death is not a synonym. It has no mean- 
ing compared to this hour. What shall I do? 
O that I had seen you three months sooner! 

B. It is not too late. Though I can do but 
little, yet I feel that Christ is very near now, 
and that God is love. Fear and trust God only, 
and all will be well. 

E. Impossible! I am ruined! 



A Catholic Converted. 133 

B. Fear not. Darkness precedes the light, 
sorrow goes before joy, and death to sin before 
a life to Christ. 

E. It is inconceivable. No tongue can tell 
the awful agonies within my heart. 

B. And no tongue can tell the issues of this 
hour. One thing is sure, the salvation of your 
soul depends upon your obedience to the im- 
pressions of the Holy Spirit. It is true you 
and I are weak vessels in this great world, but 
God sometimes chooses the weak things of this 
world to confound the mighty. It may be at 
this moment there is not another such conflict 
going on in this world as this one. Perhaps 
there may be just now manifest in you more of 
the grace of God than in any other person. The 
trial is great, I know; but Christ said to Paul, 
"My grace is sufficient for thee." His grace 
is sufficient for every trial that overtakes us in 
the path of duty. On the other hand, Satan 
may be here with his marshaled host as he is 
nowhere else. Satan does not intend freedom 
of thought, and freedom of the soul toward 
God, but intends the world shall bow to idols 
as long as he can enslave it so to do. But 
Christ intends we shall be free, and worship 
him in spirit and in truth, with the simplicity 
of a child. And now, if God has chosen you 



134 Cousin Eula; or, 

as the honored instrument in bringing light 
out of darkness, that others may not fall into 
the same dark pit, then you can but respond, 
" Here, Lord, I am." Now, cousin, shall our 
labor and sorrow be in vain ? For several days 
neither of us has found refreshment in eating 
or sleeping. Days of sorrow have past until I 
sometimes wonder what shall be the end of 
these things. Now that Christ has drawn us 
by his Spirit unto himself, the fountain of life, 
will you not drink of the water of life and live, 
that we may have joy with you? 

E. Cousin, I again must say God sent you 
to me. 

B. Then, as you believe God sent me — and 
so do I — and you have received me, will you 
not receive Him that sent me ? 

E. I will. I am resolved. It shall be set- 
tled now. Awhile ago I asked you for one 
hour; but now I only ask five minutes, and I 
will return and tell you all. 

B. Be sure you are not tempted. 

E. May be I shall be tempted. 

For about the space of five minutes I sat 
alone in the parlor, my hand over my face, 
forgetful of every thing in this world save the 
aching, agonizing, breaking heart of the one 
that had just gone from the vacant chair be- 



A Catholic Convekted. 135 

fore me. There was an unbroken silent com- 
munion with God. My heart had but one 
desire — the salvation of my cousin. But now 
I may think, as I naturally would have thought 
then had I not been absorbed with the one 
thought above expressed, Where has she gone ? 
She did not say what she wanted with the five 
minutes. Can it be she was led away by the 
evil spirit to be tempted? or has she gone 
away for secret communion with God? Sure- 
ly she cannot be gone to the priest. She can- 
not be meditating as to breaking her oath, and 
making the revelation. She has said that 
much was settled. Where can she be? and 
how employed? 

My dear reader, I must tell you, she is 
spending the five minutes asked for with the 
Priest. But not the priest of the Church of 
Rome. It is our High-priest, Christ Jesus, 
an oblation once offered for our sins; not dead 
and handled with men's hands, but our risen 
Lord, ever living to make intercession for 
us. They are together. He is blessing her 
now in her private room on her knees. His 
attention was attracted to that spot not by 
burning tapers, but by silent prayer and child- 
like, simple faith. There is offered up to him 
a sacrifice, consisting of a broken heart and 



136 Cousin Eula; ok, 

contrite spirit. He is accepting the offering, 
removing the guilt of sin, and gathering up 
the f ragmental parts ; restoring instead a pure, 
perfect heart — a copy, Lord, of thine. She 
went away apparently alone, yet she was not 
alone. A personified evil spirit rankled in her 
heart. But now the door unbolts, and she 
conies again, apparently alone, and yet she is 
not alone. She has now truly become the 
temple of the Hoty Ghost. She abides in 
Christ, and Christ in God. Like Enoch, she 
is humbly walking with God. Her face is hid 
with a handkerchief, and she weeps, but it is 
not the voice of lamentation. Her weeping is 
only joy overflowing. I said she was not alone, 
for Jesus returned with her, though I did not 
knoAv for certain then. She fell upon her 
knees, her head bowed upon her chair. I said, 
"Let me raise you up, cousin, and seat you 
upon your chair." Supposing she was pass- 
ing through the dread ordeal from nature to 
grace, from darkness to light, and from death 
to life, I exhorted her to trust the Lord, and 
be saved, for this was my most anxious thought. 
I was mistaken. All was then well. She now 
sits in her chair, her handkerchief withdrawn. 
She is pale and exhausted, but a heavenly 
smile plays over her face. 



A Catholic Converted. 137 

B. Cousin, tell me, how do yon feel now? 

E. I am perfectly happy. 

B. Do yon love God? and do yon realize he 
loves yon ? 

E. I feel his love flowing through and 
through my soul. I never felt any thing like 
it before. 

B. You have peace now? 

E. Perfect peace. 

Dear reader, we have now reached the point 
-in our story that takes us up with Moses from 
the smoke of the camp to Pisgah's heights, 
where we look over into the promised Canaan, 
and behold the beauties of the goodly land. But 
we must remember that Moses, from Nebo's 
view of the fair land, descended into the cold- 
ness of death — but not to be forgotten, for 
God honored him with a burial "in the land 
of Moab, over against Bethpeor." Nor will 
we forget to follow with anxious heart the 
after-joys of Lady Eula. 

We may follow, with delight, our Lord, 
Peter, James, and John, up into the high 
mountain apart. We may be awe-stricken 
with the transfiguration of the Lord as we be- 
hold the beauty of his glorious countenance 
and his divinity shining through every fiber 
of his garments until no fuller on earth could 



138 Cousin Eula; or, 

whiten them. All this will confirm our faith, 
as it did the favored disciples ; but we must 
still follow them to the valley below, and Peter 
to his denial. The trial of our faith is more 
precious than the trial of gold. 

B. Cousin, tell me, how did you receive this 
great blessing? 

E. I received it upon my knees. 

B. In answer to what petition or covenant ? 

E. I promised God, upon my knees, if he 
would convert me, I would reveal all. 

B. Will you now fulfill your vow? [Silence, 
effort, failure. Cries of distress, and receding 
of the Spirit.] What ails you now? 

E. My joy is gone. I am again miserable. 
Help me. 

B. I am weak, but God is strong. He can 
help you trust him. I will pray while you 
resolve in your heart to keep the vow, and he 
will return his blessing. [Silence, recovering, 
smiling.] How is it now? 

E. Perfectly happy. 

B. Have you received this blessing a second 
time in answer to the same purpose of heart 
to tell all? 

E. It came that way. 

B. Will you now redeem your vow? [Ef- 
fort, failure.] 



A Catholic Converted. 139 

E. O it is impossible! How awful is this 
hour! [The Spirit again recedes; the counte- 
nance depicts the misery within. Where shall 
the dreadful issues of this hour end?] 

B. Cousin, the Spirit of God is easily en- 
treated; in like manner he is easily grieved. 
After an experience of eighteen years of 
Christian life I assure you there is no progress 
or happiness except in obedience to the Spirit. 
The Holy Spirit is the infallible guide that 
will lead us in the path of duty and safety, if 
we will only follow his teachings. Do you 
still know God's will in this matter? 

E. I do not doubt it. I never have. 

B. God has given you a taste of his love, and 
the joy he imparts. He gave you this bless- 
ing on condition. You obeyed the impressions 
of the Spirit in covenanting with God. Tou 
also believed the promises of God. Now the 
conditions upon which God blessed you are the 
conditions upon which you are to retain the 
blessing. "We are justified by faith." "By 
faith we stand." Will you not again resolve 
in the integrity of your heart to perform your 
vow? [Silence.] 

She does silently resolve; and now you see 
the effects of the Spirit coming. The Spirit 
burns bright and yet brighter. The face is 



140 Cousin Eula; or, 

lighted up with a heavenly glow. The sparks 
of love to God and mankind play upon the 
countenance like flashes of electricity. 

B. Now, cousin, it is again apparent that all 
is well. [She smiles.] Do not be tempted. 
Think for awhile of Christ; how he has loved 
you, and borne with you; and of God the 
Father, "who is love." That sweet feast of 
love that you now enjoy is just what the saints 
and angels of heaven continually enjoy. I 
am sure he is willing for this fountain of life, 
this well of joy, to abide in you. He died to 
give you happiness in this life; he arose from 
the grave, and ascended to glory, to prepare a 
place for you in the life to come. Think of 
these things, and trust Christ. But now, as 
you enjoy and prize this feast of love you 
have possessed for a little while, how much 
greater the joy in possessing this priceless 
pearl forever! Do not give way to tempta- 
tion. Look to Christ for strength in your 
weakness. Remember he says, " My grace is 
sufficient for thee." Hold on to the purpose 
of your heart. You have now for several 
minutes retained the blessing; happiness, joy, 
peace, are yours. If you will have it to abide 
with you, only one duty is before you just 
now. 



A Catholic Converted. 141 

How her lips do quiver! What efforts she 
makes! It seems she cannot speak; she fails. 
The hectic flush is on her cheek now. 

E. May be it is not right, for when I attempt 
to speak my lips will not open. 

B. What is your condition now? 

E. I am wretched. 

B. Well, cousin, as to my mind, I am satis- 
fied as to your duty. Tou have had a contin- 
ued, never-changing impression that it is your 
duty to tell all. Such oaths and imprecations 
are unauthorized by God's law, and are a vio- 
lation of the same. Next, God has given a 
confirmation of your impression by repeatedly 
blessing you several times — as often as you 
make and purpose to comply with your vow to 
tell all. I do not wish to persuade you, but 
prefer you to remain solely under the influence 
of the Spirit. Yet I must insist on you so 
acting and obeying your impression of duty as 
to retain the blessing of peace and joy. If, 
after receiving these tastes of love, you disobey 
God, your sorrow will be the greater, having 
sinned against the light of peace and joy real- 
ized. Suppose you make the following vow to 
God, and we will pray, and I feel he will accept 
it. In the integrity of your heart vow, " Lord, 
bless me, and suffer me to retain the blessing; 



142 Cousin Eula; ok, 

and when I have had time and composure for 
meditation, I will do what I conceive to be my 
duty in reference to the revelation of these se- 
crets." Will you so vow 2 [A pause.] 

E. I will. 

B. Then in our hearts we will pray. [Silent 
prayer.] God is blessing you now. You are 
looking happy again. The heavenly smile is 
again resting on your face. What are your 
feelings ? 

E. I feel better. 

B. Is not God good to bear with you so ? 

E. He is. He blesses me more and more. 
[She smiles.] My soul is filled with joy and 
filled with love. And you are good too, cousin. 
I do not see why your patience has not been 
exhausted long ago. 

B. Not at all. Jesus left his throne in glory, 
and came to earth, spent thirty-three years of 
suffering for me, and at last died for me ; and 
then should I weary with watching a few hours, 
or even days ? It is my meat and drink to do 
my Master's will. True, we have sorrowed 
much, but the joy that cometh in the morning 
maketh the heart glad to overflowing. Many 
a time have I knelt long, with even a stranger, 
seeking the God I love, until I caught the first 
beams of the Morning Star arising with heal- 



A Catholic Converted. 143 

ing in his wings. Yes, I love to hear them call 
out, " Watchman, what of the night? " And I 
love as w r ell to reply, " The morning cometh. 
See that glory-beaming star." 

E. But the sun shines now. 

B. So it does to you, but the dazzling light 
of the morning star first portended the day 
breaking, and next came the sunshine. And it 
may be with you now that the sun is in its me- 
ridian glory to your soul. 

E. So it is. 

B. Now, to realize the sunlight of God's glo- 
rious countenance lifted upon you, is full con- 
firmation. He accepts the offering of your 
broken heart and contrite spirit. Now that 
we have sorrowed, watched, and prayed for the 
past three and a-half hours, and have been 
permitted to enjoy this sweet communion with 
Christ and with each other for the last half- 
hour, perhaps it will be well for you to bear the 
sweet testimony to your sorrowing mother. 

E. So I will, gladly; but I want to thank 
you for your toils for me. And I thank God 
he ever sent you. Before I go I must tell you 
the priest is coming this afternoon to see me. 
I do not w r ant to see him. What shall I do? 

B. Then you need not see him. I will see 
him for you. I will tell him you do not desire 



144 Cousin Eula; or, 

to see him any more; that Jesus, the High- 
priest, has converted your soul; that he has 
made you free indeed, and free you shall be. 
Allow me to suggest that you write out your 
renunciation of the Roman Catholic Church, 
its doctrines and practices. I will hand it to 
him for you. 

E. Very well. I want to see my mother 
now. Dear mother, I want to tell you I am 
very happy now. Jesus forgave my sins a 
little while ago, while on my knees renouncing 
all for Christ. Be cheerful. I have renounced 
the Catholic Church. 




'Wwew 



A Catholic Converted. 145 



CHAPTEE VIII. 

First temptation to go to the priest — Temptation vanished 
— Planning for the future — Second temptation — She dis- 
suades the preacher from writing this book — Temptation 
ended, and she prays for God's blessing on this work. 

Soon after we were separated, the hour for 
dinner arrived. We were all refreshed with a 
good dinner except Cousin Eula, who was now 
too full of joy to eat. She had food to eat 
of which the world knows not, and tastes not. 
This was the most pleasant and joyful meal 
we had taken together. Cousin took her place 
at the head of the table, and was sunshine to 
us all — more natural than I had ever seen her 
■ — she was all smiles. 

There was upon my mind prominent the 
one thought — the coming of the priest. Fidel- 
ity to Christ and my cousin, so recently born 
into his kingdom, demanded of me to meet the 
priest firmly, though kindly — all of which I was 
fully determined to do. Soon after dinner my 
cousin informed me she had sent a message to 
the priest not to come — she could not receive 
him. 

I would now have wandered alone through 
10 



146 Cousin Eula; or, 

the city, or upon the beach, or elsewhere, but I 
feared some advantage might be taken of my 
absence by that wily serpent, Satan; so I re- 
mained at the cottage, and it was well. Some 
two hours afterward I felt a strange uneasiness, 
I knew not why. I sent my wife to my cousin 
to know if I could see her. A courteous affirm- 
ative answer was returned. I went into the 
room where my cousin was, when the following 
conversation ensued : 

Eula. You need not say a word — I am going. 

Bute. Going? Going where? 

E. Going to the priest. 

B. And for what are you going to the priest? 

E. You need not ask me not. I am going to 
get ready right away, and go to the priest. 

B. And pray tell me what have you to do 
with the priest now, except Jesus, the High- 
priest, the only real Priest, and beside whom 
there is no other? 

E. I must see the priest, and I am going. 

B. You must not see the priest, and you are 
not going. 

E. But I must go. 

B. Then I must go with you. 

E. No; I must go alone. He would not ad- 
mit you. 

JS. Then he will not admit you. 



A Catholic Converted. 147 

E. But, cousin, it is useless to talk. I must 

B. You are right, cousin, it is useless to talk; 
but you must not go. If you go contrary to 
my wishes, you incur my displeasure, and, as 
I believe, the displeasure of God. 

E. I hope I shall not do any thing to displease 
you, but you do not understand the situation. 

B. Then I must understand it before I can 
be otherwise than displeased if you go. 

E. But I am not at liberty to let you know 
the situation. 

B. Indeed you are, if you will. You are no 
longer a secret slave, but a free woman — made 
free by the blood of the Lamb. You are no 
longer under Roman tyranny, bearing the griev- 
ous yoke of priestly confession, and making 
mock prayers. You are a subject of Christ's 
kingdom. The price of your freedom is his 
blood. You have taken his yoke upon you. 
Said he, " My yoke is easy, and my burden is 
light." I cannot see how you, or any one else 
— except ignorantly — can acknowledge any one 
to be priest, save Christ, without dishonoring 
Christ, and committing sin. Now I must know 
the cause of your purpose to thus dishonor 
Christ. You have told me frequently you be- 
lieved God sent me* 



148 Cousin Eula; oh, 

E. I do believe it. 

B. I admit I have believed it too. I have 
sometimes wondered why I left home, rela- 
tives, friends — all protesting — and wandered 
here, some six hundred miles away. I have 
often longed for home, sweet home, my fa- 
ther's house. Wife and I have endured hard- 
ships we were never called upon to endure be- 
fore. My health has grown worse instead of 
better; so I have as often longed for God to 
show me why I came. My people to' whom I 
have been preaching this year often weep, and 
so do I; but I have not had strength to press 
the battle to the gate. Several months havo 
passed, and no one has been converted, so far 
as I know. Mysteriously have I been detained 
at this place, while I have tried hard to spend 
this leisure Sabbath elsewhere. My sympa- 
thies have been enlisted for you, and I desired 
your salvation before I ate at your table; for 
you did seem to me to be unnatural and un- 
happy. Last year I was in another State, 
burying my dead in Christ's name, and preach- 
ing Christ to the living. But God knew then, 
yes, he knew my cousin, whom I used to know 
twenty years ago, was in trouble on account 
of sin; I knew it not. I had almost forgotten 
the tender ties of childhood - days, but God 



A Catholic Converted. 149 

knew tliey were only sleeping, not dead. God 
knew a light had been burning in your room 
for two years, because Christ, the true Light, 
had not burned in your soul; but I knew none 
of this. God knew the sickness and death of 
little Alice and Lucy, and that he had taken 
them to himself in heaven — yes, heaven, 
sweet heaven. The name of Jesus and heaven 
have ever been sweeter to me since they were 
the last words of my dying mother. God 
knew too that you, like Rachel, were weeping 
for your children, and would not be comforted, 
because they are not; that you never could 
call them back to you, but could go to them; 
that you did really want to go to heaven when 
you died, but that you had fallen into the 
clutches of designing persons, who in the 
name of Christ dishonor Christ, and who had 
bound you with the chains of hell, glazed over 
with gold, claimed to be imported from heav- 
en; that they had fastened the chain with an 
oath of the devil's forming, though he claims 
to be an angel of the Churches; that the chain 
and oath had closed your eyes from the re- 
flected light of Christ as it is reflected by 
, Christian association and religious literature ; 
that you were so conscientious you would not 
break the seal to read the secret. All this 



150 Cousin Eula; ok, 

God imew, none of which I knew. So I have 
believed God sent me in his name to be an 
instrument in his hands to unfetter these 
chains of hel], while the Holy Spirit from 
within burst the sealed lips, sealed with the 
devil's oath in the name of Christ, under the 
sanction of the holy Catholic Church. 

E. So I do believe it still. 

B. I truly believe my mission here is of 
God; but should my labor be in vain, then I 
w T ould not know what to believe. 

E. It shall not be in vain. 

B. Then let us look into our labors. Have 
you not renounced the Catholic Church? 

E. I have; that is settled. 

B. Were you not converted to God this 
morning ? 

E. I was, truly. 

B. Do you still feel and realize His love, 
peace, and joy? 

E. I do. I am as happy as I was then. 

B. And you do not doubt the forgiveness of 
your sins? 

E. Not at all. 

B. Then I cannot understand why it is you 
want to go to the priest. It is a mystery to 
me. 

E. Cousin, if you must know, I will tell 



A CxYtholic Converted. 151 

you. I see my way clear, and our future easy, 
by my going to the priest, 

B. Cousin Eula, you are tempted now to 
sin, though you may not see it; but the ser- 
pent is in his coil, or has transformed himself 
into an angel of light. Satan is not tempting 
you to doubt your conversion; he is not tempt- 
ing you to remain in tire Catholic Church; 
these are not your weakest points. He appears 
as your friend in your new relation to Christ. 
He proposes to show you the easier and 
shorter route to serve your new Master. Per- 
haps he has whispered to you my words — not 
mine, but Christ's: "My yoke is easy, and my 
burden is light." True, these are Christ's words, 
but Satan must not be allowed to put his in- 
terpretation on them. He will cheat you if 
he can. But in this, as in all other scriptures, 
you must study the mind of the Spirit. Now 
it is true his yoke is easy, properly understood. 
Let us illustrate our meaning. Labor is 
attended with pain, yet the rest following is 
made sweeter by the labor. Repentance is 
not pleasant, but grievous; "nevertheless it 
yieldeth the peaceable fruits of righteousness." 
Lonely watching during a long, dreary night 
is not desirable, but the first rays of the 
morning sun banish all the gloom. 



152 Cousin Eula; oh, 

My mother lived a sorrowful life, but as slie 
neared her three-score years the evening rays 
of the setting sun shone more brightly. She 
suffered much as the material form died, but 
at last her spirit flitted away with " Glory to 
God! " upon her tongue. 

The end to which our souls are tending is 
the all-absorbing question. God's will, the 
only guide-book, should direct us. Christians 
have suffered much for Christ's sake, enduring 
to the end, believing the promise, "Blessed 
are the persecuted for righteousness' sake." 

Paul and Silas were prisoners, but they sung 
and prayed at midnight until the welkin rang 
up to heaven, and the answer returned. Dan- 
iel was cast into the lions' den, but it was the 
way to the royal palace; and Daniel's God was 
declared to be the true God. 

No, cousin, we are not to seek easy ways, 
any more than we are to seek happiness. You 
know I told you happiness came as a conse- 
quence; and sure enough, as soon as Christ 
forgave your sins, happiness flooded your soul 
so quickly and overwhelmingly you did not 
know from whence it came. But one thing 
you did know — you were happy. You were so 
full of joy it ran out at your eyes, it kindled 
your face aglow with smiles, it spoke out of 



A Catholic Converted. 153 

your lips. No, you are not to inquire after an 
easy way, but the path of duty. And such a 
path is the one God desires you to walk in. 

A great general once said that little w r ord, 
duty, was the greatest word in the English 
language; and I am not sure but that he was 
right. It is a word for all nations, for every 
individual, for all people — none left out; no, 
not the angels. It is a w T ord for every day, 
every hour; yes, every minute. It is a word 
for all time to come. If it is used thus, it 
will regulate into right line all other words, 
thoughts, acts, and sayings — our bearing to- 
ward all men, and our actions toward God. 
It is a word among others of importance that 
Christians should learn early in Christian life, 
and fathom its depths, if it can be fathomed. 
Learn its meaning; it will fit on you the Chris- 
tian armor, it will teach you how to wear it, 
how to best use it to the glory of Jesus Christ, 
our High-priest, the Captain of the host. And 
I am so glad Jesus is our Captain in these per- 
ilous hours. If tempted, duty will lead you 
to Him who was tempted for you. I said it 
was for the angels; they do duty; they go on 
missions of mercy; they are sent forth min- 
istering spirits to the heirs of salvation. I 
rather think the saints in glory have need of 



154 Cousin Eula; or, 

it, for we find Moses and Elias with Christ 
on the Mount of Transfiguration, talking with 
him of his decease at Jerusalem — perhaps 
strengthening and comforting him, I know not. 

Dear reader, are you a Christian? Do you 
want employment in heaven? If so, do duty 
on earth first. Do not forget duty. Let it be 
your watch-word. Let its last act while in the 
flesh be knocking at the door of heaven, after 
having done God's will here. If there is any 
place in which this little word is not needed 
it is in hell. Perhaps a fallen and lost soul 
has no employment except to writhe and burn 
in the torment of flame, with the worm that 
never dies to prey upon it. The only comfort: 
You knew your duty, but did it not. 

And now, cousin, have you any thing far- 
ther to say in justification of your purpose to 
go to the priest? 

E. Well, cousin, you know how we are situ- 
ated in this city, and it is the only home we 
have. My neighbors are all Catholics, and I 
want to get along in peace if I can. As it is, 
I shall be persecuted, and to have the ill-will of 
one Catholic is to have the ill-will of all. You 
know we are not voluntarily to go into danger. 

B. I admit all you say, and yet we are to go 
forward in the discharge of every Christian 



A Catholic Convebted. 155 

duty, and in the enjoyment of every Christian 
privilege. You are not to dislike your neigh- 
bors, or love thern less than before in your new 
relationship; but, on the other hand, you are 
not to compromise any part of your religion 
to gain the favor of your neighbors. To God 
you stand or fall. But, tell me, how can you 
avoid persecution by going to the priest? 

E. He can release me if he will. 

B. If you will write out your renunciation 
of the Catholic Church, its doctrines and prac- 
tices, and ask him to excommunicate you, it is 
all he dare do in this land of freedom. 

E. That will not save me from persecution; 
but if I go and see him, and he releases me, 
then you and I will be perfectly safe. 

B. Cousin, you shall never go with my con- 
sent. You told me to-day that your priest 
was a sweet-talking, smooth-tongued man, and 
you dreaded to meet him. I offered to meet 
him for you, and now you propose to go alone 
to meet him — to go where I cannot protect 
you, except to follow you with my prayers. 
And what faith would I have to pray, " Lord, 
lead not my cousin into temptation," when you 
persist in going into it? 

E. I do not dread his persuasion now; I can 
meet that. 



156 Cousin Eula; or, 

B. What about his threatenings? 

E. That is what I dread most. 

B. Well you may, for he will no more give 
you up willingly than Satan did. You know 
how you have struggled to get free from Satan 
for the last several days, and he still buffets 
you, if you only knew it. 

E. I think he will release me, if I only go 
and see him. 

B. How, cousin? Is it possible you are go- 
ing to take another oath ? 

E. Cousin, I did not want you to ask me 
what I was going to do, but you read me so 
well you seem to know my very thoughts. 
That is the way he will release me, if at all; 
but I do not know what that oath is. 

B. Not until just then did I suspect such an 
awful thing. I knew you were blinded and 
tempted. O the horror of such a thought! I 
am learning to realize that no deed is too dark 
or base for the Roman Catholic Church and 
its priesthood to practice. You did not want 
me to know it. Such has been your teachings, 
and such are the chains of this wicked, Satanic 
institution, claiming to be the Catholic Church, 
that you give no light from behind the curtain, 
except as God brings it within the grasp of my 
comprehension. Although the Spirit of God 



A Catholic Converted. 157 

is moving your heart to loathe this mire, and 
reveal its secrets, that others may not fall into 
the same pit ; your situation is more critical 
now in this temptation than before you were 
converted. How strange that error imbibed 
leaves its taints after it has been eradicated! 
And how seldom it is that error is thoroughly 
removed at once ! And yet it is so, and so it was 
in the Keformation. It required generations 
to reach scriptural truth, and each succeeding 
star shone with greater luster. Luther, Me- 
lanchthon, and Wesley, each brought more 
and more truth to light. You go to the priest. 
Persuasion is the first remedy. The subtlety 
of a serpent, the wooing of a dove, the blessings 
of the whole Church, are to be yours, if you 
will only make a general confession. It will 
do for the present: receive absolution, and re- 
main a Catholic. If this fail, you are a helpless 
woman, in the power of a merciless man who is 
unwilling to yield his gains lightly. Then fol- 
low the threatenings, which you may be sure 
are every thing conceivable to a base mind — all 
of which you are assured can be perpetrated 
at once, as you are a helpless prisoner. If you 
do not yield, and still demand a release, an- 
other oath is to be administered. You say 
you do not know what it includes, yet you may 



158 Cousin Eula; or, 

rest assured that it is more than has gone 
before. 

E. But, cousin, if I go through with all you 
say, which I am determined to do, for I will 
never return to them, would it not be better 
for me to take the oath than for my life to be 
continually in peril? 

B. It would not, and I will give you my rea- 
sons why. [Overheard, and interrupted from 
an unexpected but friendly source. It was Mr. 
Uzenia.] 

Mr. Uzenia. Eula, do you want the umbrel- 
la? [It was raining.] I must go away, and 
want to know before I go. 

E. I reckon not. 

Mr. U. Well, now, Eula, if you want to go to 
the priest, I want you to go; and if you do not 
want to see him, then he shall not see you. If 
you want to be a Catholic, you shall have the 
privilege; and if you want to quit them, all 
right. I want you to do just as you please, 
and take no person's advice. 

E. Advice is good to have sometimes. 

Mr. U. Here, take this umbrella, and go to 
the priest, if you want to. 

E. No; you take it with you. I am not go- 
ing to the priest, nor to be a Catholic either. 
[Mr. Uzenia appears singular and abrupt, but 



A Catholic Converted. 159 

lie does not mean to be so; he does not under- 
stand these things.] 

B. That is no difference now. "What I de- 
sire is the salvation of your soul — present and 
eternal salvation. 

E. I am not exactly satisfied that I ought 
not to go. 

B. Then we will resume where we left off. 
I say it is better for you to suffer than to go to 
the priest. I promised you my reasons why. 
It is clear you have received instruction that 
should you want at any time to disconnect 
yourself with the Catholic Church, you must 
first go to the priest. For what? To take an 
oath. What that oath includes you do not 
know, and it is well you do not. The oath you 
are proposing to take is to set your person free, 
but it will bind your conscience, soul, and mind. 
Such an oath makes you a perpetual slave in 
these important respects. The point the Ro- 
man Catholic Church is guarding so close is 
still clearer to my mind. They can afford to 
lose you, a single member of the organic 
body, but the secrets are to be kept at all haz- 
ards. This pit of despair into which thou- 
sands have fallen for ages past is to be kept 
closed from the eyes of the outside world, 
though it be at the cost of life. Now I know 



160 Cousin Eula; or, 

why it is such a struggle to renounce Catholi- 
cism. I know why it cost you such death-like 
wrestlings to embrace Christ. It is clear why 
you were so impressed that you must tell all 
before receiving Christ. Now I know why I was 
so singularly impressed that I began to write 
a book, not knowing what I should write. I 
verily believe God is moving the whole affair for 
his own glory. He evidently intends his Son 
shall be honored; and before the end shall be, 
the heathen shall know him, and the uttermost 
parts of the earth shall be his possession. You 
have taken one too many oaths already for your 
comfort — one that neither God's law nor civil 
law authorizes. Let me remind you that Jesus 
Christ has made you free from the Roman 
yoke, and you cannot take it upon you again 
without dishonoring Christ. There is as much 
reason in a swearer, drunkard, or any other 
open sinner, being turned from the error of his 
way, renouncing all his sins, and being con- 
verted to God, and then going to Satan and 
asking his permission to go free, taking an 
oath that he will never expose his frauds, 
tricks, or intimate his tactics, or do any thing 
that will in any way damage his cause, as there 
is in your going to a Romish priest, and asking 
his permission to go free. Christ has made 



A Catholic Converted. 161 

you free, and you should assert your freedom. 
Again I must remind you upon what condition 
that freedom came. You received the seal 
of pardon upon your knees this morning, not 
simply renouncing priestly mockery, but vow- 
ing to God you would reveal all. Now the oath 
you propose to take will bind you so that you 
cannot perform that vow, otherwise it means 
nothing. Again, God's will was so clear as to 
your duty that you did not retain the blessing 
until you vowed to God, in the integrity of your 
heart, that you would in future do your duty 
in this matter, whatever you conceived it to be. 
But you are now tempted to lay an additional 
oath in the way of following your conscience in 
these things. Now, if you go to the priest, I 
am free to say you compromise your religion, 
and I shall expect you to be a wretched person 
the rest of your life. 

E. Cousin, the points you make are clear. 
I now see plainly the serpent in his coil. I 
see the poison in the cup. I thank God I have 
been kept from drinking it. It would have 
proved fatal to my soul's happiness. I have 
taken my last oath of a priest. I will die first. 
I thank you, and again and again thank you, 
for your kind endurance toward me, and for 
your patient reasoning with me. 
11 



162 Cousin Eula; or, 

B. I am so glad you have seen the true light, 
and that your temptation vanished. 

Bute. Well, cousin, you having been relieved 
from your temptation, there is another matter 
yet to be settled. The Catholics must know, 
sooner or later, that you have renounced their 
Church. Would it not be better to do so at 
once? 

Eula. I think not. 

B. I wish you would write out your renun- 
ciation, and send it in this evening. 

E. Nothing can induce me to do so while 
you remain in this city. 

B. Why? On my account? 

E. Yes, on your account. 

B. Cousin, if you must suffer, I am willing 
to suffer with you. 

E. Your life is too precious to lose for my 

BOUI. 

B. Not at all. Life is short, at best. The 
soul is immortal, and must live forever, or die 
eternally. I feel this evening that if it were 
necessary to die for the truth, I am willing. 
Are you not? 

E. I feel that I am. But it is useless to 
talk. For your sake I will not make any open 
renunciation of the Roman Catholic Church 



A Catholic Converted. 163 

wliile you are here, but as soon as you are 
gone I will do so. That is settled now. And, 
cousin, I want this whole affair kept quiet; it 
becomes us to act prudently. 

B. Do you consider our lives in danger? 

E. We are in perfect safety at present, for 
nothing is known outside of our family as yet. 
But ; cousin, I do want you to be prudent about 
this matter. I am glad I have told you noth- 
ing more. But be prudent, and all will be 
well. 

B. Is not this colored servant a Catholic ? 

E. Yes, sir; but she knows nothing. 

B. Do not be deceived. Doubtless she is 
closely catechised every day. I notice she 
goes to mass every morning. 

E. But she cannot tell any thing. 

B. The priest is smart enough to get from 
her what she sees, and he can judge from that 
what is going on. This girl has come in sev- 
eral times to ask you about domestic affairs, 
and found us in close conversation. 

E. That is true, but that will be looked at 
in the light of our relationship. 

B. I shall be looked at as a Methodist minis- 
ter, but it is immaterial with me. I only wish 
they all knew what the Lord has done for you, 
and that they w?re an you are. 



1G4 Cousin Eula; on, 

E. You take my advice— I have been taking 
yours. You have been a true and faithful 
guide to me. You have my thanks. But 
some things I know better than you. 

B. Very well; if you 'think the priest will 
not come, I will take a walk in the city. 

E. I have sent him word not to come. I do 
not think he will; and if he does, he will not 
see me. 

B. Very well. Cousin Eula, have you eaten 
any thing yet? 

E. Not yet. 

B. Why not? 

E. I am doing well — I will eat after awhile. 
[She is now too joyful to eat — all smiles.] 

B. How long have you been fasting? 

E. I hardly know; I think I ate something 
yesterday morning. [Pleasantry.] 

B. To what Church do you belong? 

E. I hardly know. I suppose I might be 
counted out now. I have an old Methodist 
certificate. 

B. It is out of date; but I suppose you 
might be admitted on it upon the ground of 
there being no society of our Church in this 
city — to our shame ! You would not like to 
use it, having been a Catholic. I believe I 
would start out anew. And when you get out 



A Catholic Converted. 165 

into the country — which I hope will be soon 
— join the Church, do your duty, and you will 
be happy. 

E. I fully intend to do so. 

B. Have your children been baptized? 

E. Yes, sir. 

B. By whom? 

E. By the priest. 

B. It is not a custom in our Church to re- 
baptize. After learning as much as I have 
about the Roman Catholic Church, without 
consultation with any of the authorities, I 
would advise you to have your children bap- 
tized by a Methodist minister. Teach your 
children of their latter baptism, and not their 
first. Cousin, is there such a thing as going 
so far in Bo man Catholicism — for instance, to 
baptism — and you would turn back if you 
could — that is, if you had the moral courage 
and true heroism to do so ? 

E. Cousin, I love to converse with you, but 
I had hoped you would cease to look so close 
into these things, and spare me such pene- 
trating questions. It is better to give you a 
direct answer than an evasive one. What you 
anticipate is too true; and I feel I ought to 
admit that I have never seen the day that I 
was satisfied or happy in the Catholic Church, 



166 Cousin Eula; or, 

though I tried to be, and said I was. I sup- 
pose if I had never seen you, I would never 
have made that admission; but I am so glad 
I have seen you, and wish we could live near 
together. 

After tea, and the usual family devotions, I 
conversed long with Cousin George about the 
importance of removal. At the same time 
Cousin Eula talked with her husband on the 
same subject. 

Wednesday Morning, April 3, 1878. 

Bide. Well, cousin, tell me how you rested 
last night. 

Eula. I blew out the light, and never slept 
sweeter. I feel much refreshed this morning. 

B. Then you are reaping already the fruits 
of your conversion to God. What are your 
feelings this morning spiritually? 

E. Calm, peaceful, and happy. 

The day was principally spent in writing 
on this book, committing facts and impres- 
sions to paper. Our writing was occasionally 
suspended for a walk, shopping, refreshment, 
or sleep, much needed from continued anxiety. 

E. Cousin, how can you write so much? 
You have been writing nearly all day. 

B. I am writing (to me) an interesting ac- 



A Catholic Converted. 167 

count of the conversion of my cousin from 
Roman Catholicism to Protestantism; from 
the priest to Christ Jesus; from sin to right- 
eousness. You know I told you that you 
would be a happy woman when this little book 
was finished, and here you are happy almost 
before I begin to write. Will you tell me what 
has been going on to-day among the Catholics 
in reference to my prolonged stay? 

E. They know nothing, bat are uneasy. I 
have received notification to go to confession, 
and invitations from Catholic friends to visit 
their homes; but I know too well what it all 
means. 

B. May you ever be so wise. 

After a social family talk and prayers, we 
all retired to rest. 

Bute. Cousin, I suppose we shall leave on 
the morning train. 

Eula. O no. I cannot consent to that. 

B. Wife thinks we ought to go, and it seems 
our duty is performed here. 

E. I cannot forgive you, cousin, if you leave 
this morning. Besides, I want to have a talk 
with you this morning. 

B. Very well. Of course, I will not break 
off abruptly. 



168 Cousin Eula; or, 

E. I did not sleep so sweetly last night as 
the night before. I am greatly troubled this 
morning. 

B. What can be your trouble ? You do not 
doubt your conversion to God? 

E. No, not that. 

B. Do you not feel conscious of His love to 
you? 

E. I do. I am happy in that respect. 

B. "What then ? I hope you will speak free- 
ly whatever is on your mind. 

E. Well, cousin, I want you to make me a 
promise this morning. Will you not? 

B. It depends upon the nature of the prom- 
ise you exact. 

E. You can make it if you will, and I will 
be satisfied. 

B. Well, let me hear what it is, and I will 
consider whether or not it will be right to 
make the promise. 

E. Well, will you not promise me before- 
hand? You will, will you not? 

B. Not I, cousin. I cannot promise before- 
hand to do what I know not. When Herodias's 
daughter danced before Herod, it pleased him, 
and he promised her whatsoever she might 
ask, to the half of his kingdom. She asked 
the head of John the Baptist in a charger. 



A Catholic Converted. 169 

His rash promise grieved him, and well it 
might. To make such a promise would be a 
leap in the dark. I would only resign myself 
so unreservedly into the hands of but one — ■ 
that is God — because he is infallible, and too 
wise to err, and too good to be unkind. 

E. I am afraid you will refuse me, but I tell 
you you must not refuse. 

B. I am afraid so too ; but if I can gratify 
your wishes consistently with my conscience, 
I will gladly do so. You and I have made 
some very solemn promises to God lately. 
Upon these vows, harmonizing with God's will 
and word of promise, our faith was founded. 
The conversion of your soul to God was the 
result of our mutual vow and faith. Now that 
you and I may be happy, and at last get to 
heaven, it is more important to perform our 
vows than it was to make them. Do I antici- 
pate you? 

E. You always do, and I think you do now. 
But I tell you, cousin, this promise is of im- 
portance. 

B. Well, let us have your request. 

E. You are writing a book, and I want you 
to promise me you will not write any more, 
and burn up what you have written. 

B. I did anticipate you to some extent. I 



170 Cousin Eula; or, , 

know not why, except I believed you were 
tempted in some way. 

E. Will you not promise ? 

B. I will not, cousin; but hear my reasons 
why. I know that I have been regenerated. 
I believe I have enjoyed communion with God 
above ordinary. Heaven is far off yet. I 
want to get there. I believe the way through 
the gate is obedience to God's will and word. 
If a person will not grieve the Holy Ghost, 
but obey his impressions, he may have much 
of his presence. The Holy Spirit worketh in 
us both to will and to do of his good pleasure, 
causing us to work out our salvation with fear 
and trembling. I do tremble for fear I might 
grieve away his presence. I have ever been 
desirous to be a missionary, but I know my 
inability, mentally and physically. When I 
was on my way to this ancient Southern city, 
and heard our Church was not here, I felt sad. 
When I knew your personal condition, I felt 
sadder still. I began to pray for your conver- 
sion. I felt the presence of God with me. I 
believed. After conversing with you Saturday 
evening and Sabbath night, on Monday I was 
impressed to write a book. Strange impres- 
sion, for I am not an author. The temptation 
accompanied the impression that it would cost 



A CATHOLrc Converted. 171 

me my life. I solemnly accepted the impres- 
sion with a vow to God: "If thou, Lord, wilt 
convert my cousin, now in deep trouble, I will 
write the book, cost me what it may." I was 
and am still satisfied the impression was of 
divine origin, and that God accepted my vow. 
I never doubted you would be converted, 
though I never thought we should be led 
through such deep waters. 

E. I know, cousin, you always just appeared 
to me as if you knew I should be converted. 

B. And so I believed. 

E. I thank you now for your patience and 
labor for me. But, cousin, if you persist in 
writing that book, it will ruin us. 

B. Kuinyou? How, cousin? 

E. You know my home is here, and our 
temporal interest is here, and I should be 
continually persecuted, if I escaped with my 
life. 

B. But you need not remain here. Are you 
not willing to leave this city for some other 
place? 

E. I am, but my husband is not. I talked 
with him again last night. He says he never 
expects to live anywhere else. 

B. But if he knew your life was in danger 
here he would be willing to move away. 



172 Cousin Eula; or, 

E. He does not understand these things, 
and will not appreciate the delicate situation. 

B. I will see him for you. 

E. It is useless. 

B. We will hope not. 

E. I am afraid for you to talk with him on 
this subject. The trouble is he will not hear 
and consider. 

B. You need not be afraid. I will be kind, 
and will not be offended at any thing he may 
say, for your sake. It is important for you to 
move away from this place. 

E. Cousin, you will not make the promise ? 

B. No, cousin, impossible. I might as well 
have suffered you day before yesterday to 
go to the priest and compromise your re- 
ligion with another oath as for me to make 
you such a promise as that. I should be dis- 
honoring God just as much as you would have 
done. We are both under solemn vows to 
God. It is our duty to perform them, unless 
God excuse us, which I do not feel he does 
in my case. As to consequences, they are in 
the hands of God. 

E. Cousin, if you will not promise, it will 
give me trouble. My husband knows you are 
writing the book. He says his home is here, 
that he has no enemies, and wants none. 



A Catholic Converted. 173 

B. He is right in wanting no enemies, but if 
circulating truth — truth that God demands at 
our hands — make enemies, then we are willing 
to have them. The smiles of God are more 
to be desired than the smiles of men. Nov/ 
say this, cousin, to your husband: that I will 
not, as a Christian gentleman, use your name 
in public without your consent. Nor will I 
hastily print any thing; but write I must. I 
will see him about removal. 

E. Cousin, it is useless for you to see him; 
nothing can change his views. 

B. I am by that as I am by the book: I 
feel I must seek your temporal safety for your 
soul's good. 

E. But, cousin, my husband told me I must 
not tell you he objected; for he believes you 
to be a Christian gentleman, and he prefers 
not talking about the matter. I could not gain 
my point without telling you that he objected. 
So I would rather you would not mention it to 
him. 

B. Not at all. Only give him the assurance 
I have given you, and the way will be clear for 
me to see him with good results. 

E. But, cousin, he will not move away; and 
if you write the book we shall be ruined, and 
so will you. Will you not give it up? 



174 Cousin Eula; or, 

B. I cannot. It is a conscientious matter, 
based upon an impression, and a vow to God. 

E. Then I will go back into the Catholic 
Church. 

B. You do not believe in the Catholic 
Church, and if you voluntarily go back to it, 
you do it hypocritically; hence you will lose 
your soul. 

E. So I shall; but it is better for me to lose 
my soul than for you to lose your life with 
your rashness. 

B. Tour view is incorrect. The soul is of as 
much greater value over the body as eternity 
is over time. But how w T ould such an act on 
your part save my life ? 

E. It would stop your publication, for the 
book would not be considered so valuable, and 
it would be useless to prosecute your work. 

B. It is true our book would be much marred 
by such an action on your part, and you would 
be required to deny its truth, but as to saving 
my life, such an act on your part would be the 
very way to destroy it. 

E. How could that be? 

D. Would that be your only motive in going 
back to the Catholics? 

E. My only motive would be to prevent your 
rashness. 



A Catholic Converted. 175 

B. The way you would lead me into danger 
would be thus: you would be closely studied 
by the priest, just as a person studies a book. 
You are very conscientious, and easily read. 
Every thing that has passed between us would 
be required from your lips, and confession for 
the same. They would soon learn from you 
what information I had received, much of 
which the world has never known. 

E. You are correct. I should have to admit 
all, and confess for all. But, cousin, the priest 
is not allowed to tell to any one what our con- 
fessions are. So it would go no farther. 

B. My dear cousin, you remind me of an in- 
nocent, unsuspecting bird entrapped, ensnared. 
You are so conscientious yourself, you think 
everybody else to be so — even the priest. You 
have told me if what has passed was known to 
the Catholic Church that my life would not be 
safe, and then you are tempted to tell it, trust- 
ing to priestly honesty. 

E. "Well, cousin, what shall I do then? 

B. Give your husband the assurance I have 
given you, and that will satisfy him; and then 
let you and me do our whole duty in the future, 
as God directs. 

E. "Well, cousin, would you give your real 
name? 



176 Cousin Eula; ok, 

B. Most assuredly I would. Such would be 
necessary to give authenticity to the book. 

E. Then you had as well use mine, for I as- 
sure you that you are better known in this city 
than you even suspect. * 

B. The time may yet come when you will be 
glad to give your name, and life too, if neces- 
sary, for the truth's sake. 

E. Cousin, what good would follow the pub 
lication of such a book? 

B. This book will contain the topics and 
conversations that have led you from priestly 
slavery to Christ Jesus. And why not hope 
the book will lead many of its readers into the 
same path of truth and life ? 

E. But, cousin, Catholics will not read it. 
[Picking up a Southern Christian Advocate, con- 
taining the Letters of Bishop Marvin, she 
said], I tell you a Catholic will not read a word 
of this paper, farther than to see it is a Prot- 
estant publication. They dare not do it. 

B. Cousin, all Catholics are not so conscien- 
tious in regard to their oaths and vows as you 
are. For two years you have been searching 
in the dark for the way of salvation, having no 
one to instruct you. You yielded to the influ- 
ence surrounding you, and joined the Roman 
Catholic Church. You have been so intent 



A Catholic Converted. 177 

on the salvation of your soul that you have 
obeyed every mandate of the Church. Tou 
naturally suppose every one else to be as hon- 
est as yourself. I know it must have cost you 
an effort to say, " Mother, I cannot read that 
book now. I am a Catholic." But many 
Catholics will read it in secret, and believe its 
truths, as they are bound to do from personal 
knowledge. Seeing from this book there is a 
better way, they will turn, like you, from priest- 
ly slavery to freedom in Christ Jesus. Al- 
though the time has come that Protestants 
number nearly equal to Catholics, the Roman 
Catholics feign to believe their Church to be 
the only and true Church of Christ, and they 
seek by every possible means to bring every 
one into the same fold. Put this book into the 
hands of Protestants, and they can easily put 
to shame and confusion the Roman proselyter. 
Take your own case as an example. If such a 
book had been read by you before you came 
into this city, you would not have suffered as 
you have. More than once since I came you 
have exclaimed, " O that I had seen you three 
months ago!" The very vehemency of your 
language revealed a heart sick of idolatry, into 
which it had been betrayed — a heart that 
would gladly undo all, but a heart that saw for 
12 



178 Cousin Eula; or, 

a time and felt darkness from which demons 
would almost flee, until at last you saw, through 
faith, the light in Christ, that lighted your soul 
all aglow, and made you feel his love flowing 
through your soul as 'it never did before. 
Such has been the anguish through which you 
have passed in this dread ordeal that you ex- 
claimed, " Death is no name for this ! " Now it 
has been an unusual providence that brought 
me to you at this time. You rather think that 
had I not come you would likely have lived and 
died in your idolatry. My time is short in life, 
at best; my labors are limited; but few such 
opportunities will likely be afforded me in 
person to help others as I have helped you. 
But, God willing, I will send out this little 
book. One part every Boman Catholic knows 
is too true; the other part every true believ- 
er, genuinely converted, rejoices in as true. 
Let each read for himself separately, or both 
together, as we have done, and to God we look 
to sanctify the means for the salvation of those 
who read. 

E. Then, Cousin Buie, I will join you in 
prayer to God that he may sanctify your book 
to the salvation of others, as he has sanctified 
your conversation to my salvation. 

B. Amen. 



A Catholic Converted. 179 



CHAPTEE IX. 

Father F. D. La Fontaine interviewed — Correspondence — 
To the Catholic reader — To the Protestant reader — Why 
the book has been delayed. 

It was a beautiful May-day, 1881, on the Saint 
John's Biver, that the following occurred. It 
was on cabin-deck that one, for awhile, was 
spokesman to a few listeners. The spokesman 
proved to be a Koman Catholic priest, and one 
of the number a Catholic layman, while the oth- 
er two were Protestants. It was soon evident 
that the priest was fishing, but not in the Saint 
John's Biver — in which there is an abundance 
of fish— but on board the "Water Lily," that 
plows the waters of the above river. To one 
of the Protestants it did seem like the other 
was biting at the bait; but, on a private inter- 
view, it was ascertained that each was only 
sucking at it, with mouths closed. But upon 
every shake of the line, the priest, who held 
the pole, leaned over in deep suspense, looking 
for the coveted moment when he should draw 
his trout to the shore. The priest was Father 
La Fontaine, a French-Italian. He impressed 



180 Cousin Eula; or, 

me at first as very conscientious. He appeared 
to be between twenty-five and thirty years old. 

The first question, from the Baptist brother, 
puzzled the young Father. The question was, 
" Upon what scripture do the Catholics insti- 
tute mass? " He was unable to answer. 

I then conversed with him as follows: 

Minister. That duty you call confession — 
I cannot understand the necessity of it. It 
seems to me that it is better for one to go di- 
rect to God, and acknowledge his sin, and re- 
ceive forgiveness. 

Priest. O no; dat would not do. There 
would not be any humility in dat. De man 
say, If I sin again, I go to de Lord, and he 
forgive me; but if he come to de priest, he in- 
flict some punishment. Dat punishment pre- 
vent him committing de sin again. 

I have written the above sentence as it was 
spoken. Hereafter I will substitute correct 
English for his broken English. 

M. Well, do you hold that a person cannot 
go direct to God with his sin, and receive for- 
giveness, without going to the priest? 

P. O no; when he comes to the priest, that 
is coming to God. 

M. Do you mean to say that the priest is the 
vicar of Christ, and stands instead of God? 



A Catholic Converted. 181 

P. Well, I will illustrate my meaning in this 
way: If you be in Jacksonville, and I in Saint 
Augustine, and you want to send me a message, 
the telegraph office in each place must be con- 
nected by the wire; then you can send the 
message. Now the priest is the same as the 
wire. Tou understand? 

M. O yes. 

P. Then that is it. 

M. They tell me you have to kneel down be- 
fore the priest when you make confession, and 
I do not think I could ever kneel to man. 

P. Well, you see you confess to God through 
the priest; and the priest is not as a man, but 
he acts for God. 

M. But is it true that one kneels before the 
priest in confession? 

P. O yes. . 

M. Do priests ever confess? 

P. O yes; if we commit mortal sin we can- 
not receive confession from another until w r e 
first confess to another priest. 

M. . Well, you have been serving the Church 
in Saint Augustine. Suppose you were to 
commit mortal sin — you have no other priest 
there — how would you manage in that case? 

P. Well, I would just write to the priest at 
Jacksonville, and tell him to come over a day 



182 Cousin Eula; or, 

or two, and we would have a good time. And 
when he came, I would say, There is a little 
matter I want to confess. 

M. Well, you say you have to confess when 
you commit mortal sin. What is the differ- 
ence between mortal sin and any other sin? 

P. Mortal sin is willful sin — when we sin 
knowing it is sin at the time. For instance, 
every day, between 9 a.m. and 3 p.m., I am to 
read vestry three hours — that is, read service. 
Such is the commandment of my Church. If 
I do not do it, I sin. You would think my 
traveling to-day would excuse me, but not so. 
I must read the service, or I commit mortal 
sin. 

M. Well, it seems to me as if I would not 
like to make all my secrets known to a priest. 

P. Well, you see that is this way: he keeps 
them ; they never pass his lips. 

M. I would be afraid they would make fun 
of some of my little sins. 

P. O pshaw! they will not do that. 

He looked at his watch, and said, " Excuse 
me; I have just time to finish my service by 3 
o'clock." I replied, " Certainly, I would not 
interfere with your religious duties. You have 
interested me, and, had you time, I would be 
glad to hear more from you." I began to 



A Catholic Convekted. 183 

move my chair farther off, when he said, " O, 
well, let me see. I — may be I — well, I will 
talk more with yon anyhow." I replied, u O 
no; I wonld not interfere with the sacredness 
of your hour." What he told me previously 
was mortal sin, he seemed willing to commit 
in the hope of catching a fish, 

M. It seems to me you are not familiar 
enough with our language, and that you do not 
speak plain enough, to do much good preach- 
ing among our American people. 

P. Well, you see that is not with us like it 
is with Protestants. Most of our service con- 
sists in the liturgy of the Church. And when 
we preach, we take one of the canonized saints 
most of the time, and narrate some of the 
deeds of their lives. 

M. Well, tell me what is the object of such 
preaching. 

P. It is twofold: first, it is to inspire our 
hearers to similar noble deeds; second, to nar- 
rate the noble deeds of the saints will cause 
them to feel tenderly toward us, and they will 
make prayer to God in our behalf. 

Let the reader imagine Saint Patrick listen- 
ing to a thousand orations about him on Saint 
Patrick's Day — yea, in different continents — 
and then praying for all these ten thousand 



18 4 Cousin Eula; or, 

devoted hearers. It is impossible to conceive 
ot such being true without ascribing divine 
attributes to Saint Patrick, which is nothing 
less than making him a god. This saint-wor- 
ship is absurd in the extreme. 

I asked for his address. He gave it to me, 
and I left him to himself. He began intently 
reading his task, but it was not long before I 
saw him talking with a lady, whom I took to 
be a Catholic. The conversation continued 
until the boat landed at Jacksonville, just at 
3 P.M. 

COEEESPONDENCE. 

Milkee, Ga., June 10, 1881. 
Father La Fonuiss-Jin. and Bear Sir.— It ha« 
been about a month since I met yon on the Saint John's 
Eiver, m Florida. We were engaged in conversation in 
reference to the Catholic Chnrch. I am a Protestant, but 
if I have not the troth, I want it. Some things about the 
Catholic Church I do not understand ; and, of course, some 
things we hear may not be true. In investigating the 
matter, I have heard that one has to take an oath in join- 
ing the Catholic Church. Of course, you can tell me 
whether this be true or not; and, if true, show me the 
necessity of requiring an oath of an applicant for mem- 
bership. 

You told me when I was with you that a Mason could 
not become a Catholic without first renouncing his Masonry 
VV ill you be so kind as to show me wherein Masonry an- 
tagonizes your Church and God's word? I recognize it as 



A Catholic Converted. 185 

one's duty to renounce any and every thing that would 
keep him from serving God and saving his soul ; but one 
cannot renounce error until he first becomes conscious he 
is in error. 

Will you be so kind as to give me information on these 
two points — namely, the oath, if it be a fact, and the ne- 
cessity of giving up Masonry ? 

Inclosed find envelope and stamp. Please answer me 
on the above points, and you will oblige yours truly, 

J. Buie McFarland. 



Tallahassee, Fla., June 14, 1881. 

Dear J. Buie McFarland :— Excuse me, I could not 
answer before I understood the grace of God was acting 
wonderfully upon you ; yet it is in your power to embrace 
or reject. If you were very well acquainted, and knew 
what was the Church of God, or the Catholic Church, you 
would not hesitate a moment to give up and renounce 
your Masonry. In these matters you are to go slowly, but 
you must also pray with earnestness to God to enlighten 
your mind, and to give you the grace of perseverance in 
searching the points where you have doubt ; and with such 
good-will God will help you sooner than you think. 

I do not know if you are baptized or not. Get a Cate- 
chism, and see by yourself all about the engagement you 
take freely toward God. If you want to enjoy the bene- 
fit of the merits of our Lord Jesus Christ with the bap- 
tism, you will be born again spiritually, and through the 
baptism you will be incorporated into the great and large 
family of Jesus Christ, and into all your duty. The law- 
ful agent of Christ will settle your mind. 

To be sure, if you make up your mind to become a sin- 
cere and true Catholic, you will be obliged, at the presence 



186 Cousin Eula; or, 

of God and his lawful minister, to make an act of faith, 
and to renounce your former error. You will easily and 
courageously do it, if, as you said, " you want to save your 
soul, and be happy here and hereafter." 

The aim of Masonry is to paralyze the work of the Son 
of God, Jesus Christ, and to make of their members in- 
struments of Satan, and to deceive people under the man- 
tle of charity, but all with hypocrisy and deception. Ma- 
sonry hates the throne and the altar; it is just the opposite 
of catholicity. If you want to serve God, you must deny 
yourself and renounce the enemies of God. Are you sin- 
cerely disposed to work out your salvation? I will pray, 
and God will be praised. You will soon, in your own 
country, find a priest who will kindly and charitably help 
you, and receive you into the large Catholic family of 
Jesus Christ. 

Hoping you will persevere in your undertaking, and 
trusting you will embrace the grace and heavenly favor 
that God is ready to grant you, I remain yours truly, 

F. D. La Fontaine. 

P. S. — I intend to pray personally for you next Sunday. 



Milner, Ga., June 21, 1881. 
Father La Fontaine — Rev. and Dear Sir: — Your 
favor of the 14th is to hand. I will trouble you once more. 
If you have time to answer, you will oblige me. In your 
reply of the 14th, you answer me more fully on the subject 
of Masonry than on the other point — namely, I wanted to 
know if it was true that one must take an oath in joining 
the Catholic Church. Your reply still leaves the question 
unanswered. You say, "Get a Catechism, and see by 
yourself all about the engagement you take freely toward 
God." May I infer from this that I may learn all about 



A Catholic Converted. 187 

the obligation of a Catholic from the Catechism? Next 
you say that, in receiving baptism, "the lawful agent of 
Jesus Christ will settle in peace your mind." Please, who 
is this agent that gives this peace ? Next you say, " To be 
sure, if you make up your mind to become a sincere and 
true Catholic, you will be obliged, at the presence of God 
and his lawful minister, to make an act of faith, and to 
renounce your former error." Now, this act of faith and 
renouncing error is the very question at issue. What I 
want to know is, Is this act of faith simply a vow, or is it an 
oath ? You can tell me if you will. The next point is, 
Can I have the right to see what it is? that I may read it, 
and study it, so that I may see for myself, and not another, 
whether I can conscientiously take it and be able to keep it. 

You know I have heretofore told you that I was a 
Protestant. All Protestants have an "act of faith" — a 
vow. (See Discipline of the Methodist Episcopal Church, 
South, pages 227-241.) 

I thank you for the interest you manifest in me, and for 
your prayers in my behalf. I believe all true Christians 
pray for all mankind. Yours truly, 

J. Buie McFarland. 



Tallahassee, Fla., July 15, 1881. 

Dear Sir : — I was not at home when your letter reached 
Tallahassee. Duty goes before every thing. I told you 
in my last if you were anxious to know the truth, the sim- 
plest way was to see the priest who visits your place, get a 
Catechism, and, having a good understanding on the mat- 
ter with him, you could save time and anxious trouble ; 
you would also easily get over all kinds of difficulty. 

To be sure, you have a solemn oath to take. You know 
you have heretofore told me you were a Mason and a Prot- 



188 Cousin Eula; or, 

estant. Wishing to join the Catholic Church, you must 
renounce your former error, and make your act of faith to 
believe all the truths that the Catholic Church believes 
and teaches in her dogmas ; also the fifteen mysteries of 
the life of Christ our Lord. The oath is to be taken at 
the foot of the altar in the place where you have public 
worship — that is, where the priest says mass when he vis- 
its your place. After that, in the reception of baptism is 
included a tryle cross, that you make at the presence of 
your God, the priest, and your godfather, renouncing to 
Satan. Get the "Catholic Christian Instructed," and in it 
you will find what you want. 

Hoping you will earnestly answer to the grace of God, 
I remain yours truly in Jesus Christ, 

F. D. La Fontaine. 



Milner, Ga., Sept. 21, 1881. 

Father La Fontaine — Dear Sir: — It has been over 
two months since any thing passed between us. In your 
last you answered me fully, except at one point — that is, 
the oath that must be taken in joining the Catholics. You 
admit an oath must be taken, but you do not tell me what 
it is. You refer me to the priest who visits my place. 
None comes. You also ask me to purchase " Catholic 
Christian Instructed," and that I would find in it what I 
wanted to know. I have done so, but I do not find any 
oath. I feel satisfied you are unwilling for me to examine 
the oath. If I am incorrect in this last statement, you can 
correct me, and convince me differently, by sending me 
the required oath. Will you do so? Well, we shall see. 

Inclosed I send you envelope and stamp. Your speedy 
reply will oblige me. Your friend, 

J. Br it: Mc Far land. 



A Catholic Converted. 189 

Father La Fontaine has silently dismissed 
us — so we now dismiss him. 

TO THE CATHOLIC KEADEK. 

You remember I told my consin that some 
would read in secret. Tou have. I trust our 
conversation you have read may be sanctified 
to your salvation, as it was to hers. Therefore, 
come, let you and me reason together. 

I have charged you with being a moral and 
intellectual slave. Think of the absurdities of 
penance, confession, purgatory, mass, praying 
to the saints, etc. The charge I have brought 
against you is a very grave one. If that 
charge has been sustained, you ought to as- 
sert your freedom with which God has made 
you free; if it has not been sustained, then 
I ought to be ashamed. But I maintain it has 
been fully sustained in what has gone before. 

God has given you a mind, an intellect, with 
which you are to think, reason, meditate, and 
decide for yourself what is right, and what is 
wrong. But the Roman Catholic Church says 
you shall not use that .regal power, that you 
shall not read Protestant literature, or attend 
Protestant services. Thus the Church takes 
away your personal right, and enslaves your 
intellect. Moral slavery necessarily follows. 



190 Cousin Eula; or, 

Moral actions have their motive-power in the 
heart, yet they are governed by the intellect. 

The Catholic Church responds that the 
priests are responsible for what they teach you, 
and for your salvation, if you obey their teach- 
ings. This is the very question at issue. We as- 
sert that God has a right to locate responsibility 
in his subjects. He has located it in us indi- 
vidually, and individual responsibility brings 
us the right of private judgment. This indi- 
vidual responsibility you cannot part with if 
you so desired. To attempt it is to jeopard- 
ize your salvation. You are bound to search 
for the truth. Nor can you surrender your 
private judgment of what truth is. To do so 
you are enslaved, and you cannot know for 
yourself whether you serve God or the devil. 

Next, I have charged you with being guilty 
of idolatry — this is also a grave charge; but you 
saw and felt the truth of it as you read what has 
gone before. It lies at the very bottom of Cath- 
olic teachings and practice. You subscribe to it 
when you subscribe to infallibility, whether you 
locate it in the Church or in the pope. You sub- 
scribe to it when you assert you believe in tran- 
substantiation, which your eyes, touch, smell, 
and taste, convince you is a gross falsehood. 
You subscribe to it when you agree to believe 



A Catholic Converted. 191 

whatever the Church of Rome officially teach- 
es you. Yes, sir, in doing so you make the 
pope your immutable saviour, god — the creeds 
of the Church your Bible. You practice idol- 
atry every time you pray to the Virgin Mary, 
or any other saint, or confess and receive ab- 
solution from any priest. 

My dear Catholic reader, I have, in this lit- 
tle, unpretentious volume, dealt very plainly 
with you, and with your tenets, to which you 
have subscribed. What I have written I have 
written fearlessly and conscientiously, because 
I felt God demanded such of me. I have 
written w 7 hat I believe to be the truth, and 
have written it for your soul's sake. I send 
this little book forth, hoping it may lead you 
to freedom in Christ Jesus. 

Do you ask me what I would have you do ? 
I reply, Come out of your Roman slavery. 
Break that wicked oath you took at those slav- 
ish altars. Yes, come out of her; adopt the 
Bible, which is the religion of Protestants, as 
your rule of faith. Do not hope you can re- 
form Borne; she is too hoary in sin; her roots 
and branches are too full of error. Again 
I say, Come out of her for truth's sake, and, 
above all, for your soul's sake. 

I subscribe myself one who loves you, and 



192 Cousin Eula; or, 

desires to meet you among the Church of the 
first-born, washed in the blood of the Lamb, 
Christ Jesus. J. Buie McFarland. 



TO THE PROTESTANT READER. 

The first objection you meet will be, "If I 
follow the example of the writer of this book 
I shall become liable to the charge of prose- 
lyting." Very well, let us admit it, in the 
sense of converting one from the error of sin 
and idolatry to righteousness, and to a new 
life in Christ Jesus. Such cannot be sin. To 
impart light and inculcate truth is a duty im- 
posed upon every true follower of Christ, both 
by his teaching and example. But you fear 
that anathema pronounced against one who 
proselytes, and you say the Roman Catholics 
claim to be the Church of Christ. Very well, 
so does a Mormon term himself a Latter-day 
Saint; but who would hesitate to convert a 
Mormon from following Joseph Smith's proph- 
ecies to the New Testament truth? or who 
would hesitate in converting a Roman Catholic 
from his priestly idolatry, image-worship, and 
popish trust, to simple faith in Christ, and 
spiritual worship to God, who is a Spirit, and 
seeketh such to worship him as worship in 
spirit and in truth ? Not I. 



A Catholic Converted. 193 

My dear reader, do not be deceived. You 
How know what the Eoman Catholic Church is. 
Do not be beguiled; they want you and your 
children. Do not trust the education and 
training of your children to them. No, do not- 
let the Eoman Catholics deceive you. You 
have enough of the truth in this book to put 
to silence and contempt any move they may 
make to entice you into their Church. Ask 
them to read this book with you, and ask them 
if it does not contain the truth. 

Your friend and protector* of the faith once 
delivered unto the Churchy 

J. Buie McFarland. 



THE DELAY OF THE BOOK. 

If this little book be so important a revela- 
tion, you ask, why has it been delayed these 
three or four years ? 

I answer. First, I began to write it from 
impressions of duty. I truly believe I wrote 
it for the glory of God, and under providential 
circumstances. When I would think of pub- 
lishing, and submit it to some one for criticism, 
from whom I always received encouragement, 
then I have felt a personal pride, which I have 
sought to destroy or foil by laying all aside. 
I now feel I have gained the victory at that 
13 



194 Cousin Eula; ok, 

point, and that I can now publish, as I wrote, 
for the glory of God. In the next place, I 
have never been able, nor am I now able, to 
redeem that promise I long since made, that 
you should know the secret chain of Roman- 
ism, though I know it is there, and your Cath- 
olic neighbor just over the way knows what it 
is, and where it is. I mean that dreadful oath 
every Catholic has taken at the altar. I can 
truly say, as was said of the angels in reference 
to the plan of salvation, I have desired to look 
into these things, and have not been permitted. 
But I cannot say of this secret chain, as was said 
of Simeon, in reference to his seeing Christ, 
" Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in 
peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." 
Yet I trust to God that whatever Catholic may 
chance to read this book will see his salvation 
in Christ, and rejoice in him as did Simeon of 
old. In reference to the oath — which every 
priest who ministers at the altar, and every 
Catholic who has passed the altar, knows to 
be real and true — I cannot give it, for I have 
never received it. In the second and last 
interview I had with Cousin Eula, which 
was in May, 1881, she affirmed its existence, 
its horrors, etc. She not only expressed 
herself as desirous the world should know it, 



A Catholic Converted. 195 

but still felt a propelling conscience that she 
ought to reveal it. But she would not reveal 
it to me, for she said that for my sake she 
would not tell me — for my personal safety. 
Her last words on the subject were, " I would 
lie down and die at your feet first." 

Bute. And do you repeat it — all for my sake? 

Eala. I do; all, all for your sake. 



THE END. 



/ 



Deacidifred using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Jan. 2006 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 
111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 






